A History of Violence
by Carla Coleman
Summary: Parallel with time period of HBP, but takes a turn. Draco has been given his task by Voldemort and is left little choice until Narcissa pulls in a family favor. HPAB Crossover.
1. Chapter 1:Cissa's Had Enough

Chapter 1: Cissa's Had Enough

It was something out of a beautiful portrait. A woman who happens to be the epitome of beauty sits in her parlor watching the garden from out the window. It was the garden that never needed tending, the garden that never dies, a garden that is eternally beautiful. A woman and her garden, looking as tranquil as possible regardless of the fact that her thoughts were anything but. Any other woman would be pacing the floors and biting her nails. Or down on their needs praying to some higher entity to bring him back safe and sound. But she is not any woman. She is Narcissa Malfoy, but first was Narcissa Black and neither of those families tolerated that type of behavior and it earned them the callous cold status that goes along with pureblood families. However, her performances were not solely for the benefit of her family; it was for herself. Despite what the public thought and despite what her husband thought, she loved her son more than anything in the world and the fact that he was with that snake faced bastard because of something her piece of a husband did didn't sit well with her at all.

_How dare they drag him into this? He's only sixteen years old. He should be worried about girls, brooms, and what he wants to do with his life. It shouldn't be chosen for him, just like it shouldn't have been chosen for me or Luc-_

Narcissa was jarred from her thoughts when heard the last piece of light in her life walk through the door. Not knowing what to expect when she turned around, she braced herself mentally by putting on a mask to keep herself from breaking emotionally while making sure it would be clear that she is here for him. When she faced him, she was relieved to see that he was okay for the most part until she got to his eyes. The eyes that were Lucius's, but not. The eyes she remembers being a kaleidoscope of blue and gray before finally settling on gray being filled with happiness and mirth. Now they were flickering between blank and broken. He was trying to mask from her and that in itself told her that it must be really bad. So she decided to break the silence first. "What happened Draco?"

He took one long look at her; it was almost as if he was trying to memorize every single detail of her image. Taking a breath, he finally spoke. "Everything and nothing. He went on for 15 minutes about how much a disappointment father had been to get himself locked up and how I should rid my family name of this shame. He gave me some choices and spoke of them like they were as something simply as a _Scougify_ spell."

She noticed towards the end of his statement his voice took on a slightly distressed tone. She knew these "choices" weren't really choices. "What does he want you to do?" She asked as she walked towards him.

Again he looked at her as if she'd disappear any minute and it broke her heart. "Draco. What is it?" Said again trying to get his attention.

After fighting with his expression for what seemed like eons, he yielded to a look of brokenness and distress. "He wants me to kill Dumbledore and if I don't, he will kill you and father."

Without any thought, she wrapped her arms around her baby. With him being almost a foot taller, he towered over her as he wrapped his arms around her cradling her head into his chest and taking in her smell. They held each other in the silence giving Narcissa time to think there is no place she would rather be. She knew there was no way Draco would be able to kill Dumbledore and even if he could, both still would have reservations. Draco is not a killer and neither is she despite pressuring from Lucius and Bella.

_Maybe he should of married her instead of me. Crazy Bitch! God damn you Lucius! Abraxas won. You weak bas-. _

"Mum-" She was cut out of her thoughts when she saw a pair of grays looking at her uncertainly. That was when she noticed she was slightly shaking. She smiled at him remembering that she hadn't seen that type of look on Lucius's face since their wedding day. _That's reassurance for the future._ But it also gave her hope. Draco could and would be a different man from his father and grandfather if he escaped now.

However, being that different man also heightened his chances of being killed. She knew Draco was an excellent dueler, but it was useless if he is possibly going up against the men who taught him everything he knew. _But he life would be gone the minute he yields to Voldemort anyway. _She finally understood the meaning of the muggle phrase, 'Stuck between a rock and a hard place.' She remembered her pseudo-philosophical debates with Alex.

_Alex! How could I forget about him. It's almost time for me to write him anyway. _The machinations that were a Slytherin mind started working. She was so deep into her planning that she didn't know that Draco was almost screaming at her to get her attention. "Mum! Mother! Are you okay?"

"Better than I've been in awhile." She replied with a smirk. Of course she noticed her son was taken aback by the smirk donning her face. Cupping his cheek in her hand, she gave Draco a full smile that caused Draco to smile back uncertainly, "Everything's going to be okay. Just trust me. We have a lot of talking to do." She gestured for him to follow her into the study.

_Almost twenty years of complacency Cissa and this is what is takes. Better late than never. Damn you Voldemort! You might have took my family. You might have took my husband, but you will not take my son!_


	2. Chapter 2: Flight of the Dragon

Chapter 2: Flight of the Dragon

I'm still trying to trace all the events that lead up to me finding myself two days later in the middle of London's Heathrow International Airport looking like a long lost relative of the Weasley's, just better dressed. As I ran my hand through my magically red hair I looked upon my mother who was sporting the same shade. Despite all the maneuverings we've been undertaking these last two days, she looked more alive and younger than she had in years. I hadn't seen her look this alive and happy since I was eight. I couldn't help but smile at the site.

A booming voice came out of nowhere. "Calling all passengers for flight 426 from London, England to Lambert-St. Louis International. Boarding all passengers for flight 426 for St. Louis Missouri of the United States."

It was now show time. I am no longer Draco Malfoy, but Matthew Willis, a 17 year old college freshmen about to begin his first year at Washington University in St. Louis. Emma Willis, my beautiful and proud mother stands upon hearing the boarding call and puts her hands on my shoulders looking me straight in the eye. "If nothing else, I want you to know that I am proud of you and that I do love you. Go and enjoy all that they have to offer over there in addition to education and training Matt." With a smirk she leaned towards my ear added, "And I do mean everything from brooms, to cars, and even girls. Don't let anything hold you back. Not even blood. We all came into this world the same way and for the most part, we all going to go out the same whether it be a spell, a knife, or a stopping of the heart. Try to have fun and live. If not for yourself, then for me." Pulling back she gave me a once over, "Make sure you tell Drake the same message."

Those words brought home the fact that I probably wouldn't be seeing my mother until the war began or when the war ended. I had no clue what she was going to do; she just said she was going to be okay and had plans in motion. However, it still didn't quench the feeling that I was leaving my mother at the mercy of a madman, possibly two. Who knows whether Azkaban had the power to make father more demented than he already is? There was no way I could leave without voicing my concern once again. "Mum. Are you sure? You could leave with me and be just as protected? We could-"

She cut me off, her tone slightly harsh. "And what? Let the ministry or the scaly one take all that the Malfoy's have to offer. I may and may not be many things, but the neither of those two tails of asses will ever see that fortune." She softened her tone and pulled me into a hug. "I know you're worried, but I can assure you I will be fine. I'm not a Slytherin for my looks you know." Pulling back, she started dragging me towards the gate. "You will be hearing from me sooner than you would think. And tell the little sleazebag I said hi." She ended with a smirk as I handed my ticket to the gate attendant. Okay…I wasn't going to even try to decipher that one. Last time I heard that was a muggle insult, I just couldn't remember where I heard it from.

Finally settling down in my seat waiting for the plane to take off, I wondered why our American contact was so adamant about not taking a portkey when it would have been much simpler, much faster and less expensive, not like that was a problem for us anyway. He just said it was too risky and it would have sparked suspicion since there did exist aurors who could see through magical charms. It would have lead to a series of questions I didn't want answered. Why is the Malfoy heir traveling two weeks before school begins and why under glamour? It could have found its way into the ministry or the _Prophet_, which would have eventually lead to Voldemort, the last thing I needed.

So I yielded and decided to use it as a learning experience. Over the last few days, mother had told me a lot about muggles, since I didn't have that much contact with them obviously. It wasn't much of a surprise that much of it differed from what father had said. Anyways it wasn't like I totally believed everything he said anyways. It was more of a _Just nod, smile, and nobody gets hurt_ relationship with him only without the smile. Malfoy's do not smile; we smirk or something like that. Anyways, if I had any semblance of belief in that notion, it was crushed the moment I met Granger. Lucius stated she was the disgusting exception to the rule. However, looking around this plane I knew other wise.

The framework actually began with our American contact who happened to be my cousin whom I thought was long ago dead. Alex. I was beyond shocked when mother told me she had been in contact with him for the last ten years. Alex. My favorite cousin because he was the only cousin I used to see at that time. For as I long as could remember back, I remembered him being there. Eleven years my elder, Alex was who I wanted to be bordering on the older brother I never had and an _accepting_ father figure. He was the first one to take me flying, the first to teach me recreational spells, and the first male companion to talk about muggles without any bit of scorn. Most importantly, he along with mum allowed me time just be myself and just exist without the oppressive standards of being a Malfoy, pureblood, and rich. He lived with father, mum, and I at the manor until I was almost seven years old and he suddenly disappeared leaving mother and I alone with _him. _When I asked about him, I was told quite bluntly by father that he was dead. Not only was I terribly disturbed by this, it left a lot of questions open for me that I couldn't get answered in fear of negative retribution from Lucius. Lucius. Adding injury to insult, almost around the time Alex disappeared Lucius's rein of terror began which, primarily consisted of killing the spirit of vivaciousness that I recently found existed in my mother and the physical and psychological warfare waged against me beginning at the age of seven in hopes of not just getting an acceptable heir, but an acceptable clone. Nothing was the same again and with the exception of my mother, I felt truly alone. Now finding out that there are three Malfoy males remaining rather than two again brings another stream of questions, most importantly, what can this Malfoy do to help me.


	3. Chapter 3: What!

Chapter 3: What?!

Immediately after my plane touched down, I went into the second phase of the plan set up by cousin. Merlin, he was so cautious that I wondered had he ever had contact with that crazy ex-auror Moody. I shuddered at the thought. Alex had insisted that I change clothes before I even think about leaving the airport just incase someone was trailing me and he thought it would be best that I try to look the part of a young American as much as possible. So after at least 15 minutes of searching, I found the mens' laboratory and attempted to change clothes without touching anything in the filthy stink hole. After spending most of my life in black dress pants, I must admit that there was something extremely liberating and relaxing about the pair of faded looking navy jeans that I had just slid into. Father never let me wore jeans; he believed it was _unbefitting of someone our stature_ . Pompous Ass. i_Tell me what is befitting of someone of our stature. Is it the wondrous amenities of Hotel a la Azkaban or it on our knees in front of some sick bastard who barely looks human anymore? What happened to Malfoys bow to no one father? _Sorry… Anyways, I digress. After adding a plain white shirt, black sneakers, and a black sport jacket, I looked very good. No surprise there.

By the time I got out of the airport, it almost dusk. I knew Alex would be waiting at the restaurant soon so I caught a taxi, thanking Merlin it was similar to catching the Knight Bus. While sitting there taking in the sites that were St. Louis, I pictured the written version of Alex 's instructions.

_Chancey's Place-The Riverfront_

_Back Table_

_Try to get here before dark._

_If not, don't speak to anyone._

_Don't agree to follow anyone._

_Most importantly, DO NOT LOOK ANYONE IN THE EYE AND_

_DO NOT BE AFRAID TO USE YOUR WAND IF IN DANGER_!

O…kay. Again, can you say "Moody"? To avoid having to follow the other instructions, I just hope we made it before dark. What on Earth could be so terrible that you didn't want to be outside in the city at night? It wasn't like there was a Forbidden Forest lying around somewhere. Feeling the automobile slow down, took in the area that was known as the Riverfront. It looked like a refurbished place of old meaning that most of the buildings were at least 100 years old and had apparently been remodeled. We finally came to a complete stop in front of the restaurant Chancey's. As I paid the driver with the American muggle money my mother gave me, I heard the driver mumble something to me about being careful and that all of them don't take the new rules to heart or some rubbish like that. But the overall message was be careful. What was it about this place? Deciding to save my questions for Alex, I exited the cab with my bag and entered Chancey's.

It clearly wasn't a high end type of place that I was used to going to, but it was clearly higher up than the Three Broomsticks. The place was self seating and at the same time had well dressed waiters and waitresses in traditional black and white. Deciding that I had plenty of time left for sightseeing, I scanned around searching for a man in all black. Once I spotted him, I noticed already looking at me and he nodded in response. Making my way over, I thought about what I could possibly say to him. I mean I hadn't seen him since I was a kid and he wasn't a full fledged adult when I knew him, so I knew he'd obviously had to change by now. Then it doesn't help that I thought he was dead for most of this time neither does it?

Placing my bag out of the way, I took the seat facing him and the wait game begun. I remembered this game; it was a family game of sorts. I remembered playing this with Alex and strangely enough, I remember playing it with father a few times before he went bloody mad. Mostly, it consisted of trying to look indifferent and seeing who can hold out the longest without saying something. It was most entertaining when you had an unknowing opponent who wanted information of some sort and it gave you power over the conversation, but I obviously wasn't thinking of this when I was a kid. Deciding to do something productive with the time, I glanced around the room while for the most part taking him in. He seemed shorter in comparison to the last time I had seen him, but that's not saying much since I was much shorter at the time also. He looked like himself, but then he didn't if that made any sense. I couldn't tell what was glamour charms and what wasn't maybe with the exception of his hair. But one thing was the same and those were his eyes, the only Malfoy male in 200 years not to have gray eyes proven by the portraits at the Manor. They were a pale blue to be exact, so pale that they were almost gray. Almost. My silent inspection was interrupted when the waitress came to our table with a beaming smile looking between the two of us. A little too long I might add. "Hello, my name is Candice. Are you ready to order sirs?"

A smirk found its way to Alex's face as he looked her in the eyes. "Sure. I'll have the grilled chicken and vegetables. Matt?"

Oh. That was my name wasn't it. I was so busy watching the red blush creep of the waitress face that I didn't even have time to look at the menu. "Um…I'll try the chicken too. Thank you Candice." I gave her one of my rarely seen disarming smiles to keep the embarrassment off me. Yes, I can be charming when I want to. And to think that the girl couldn't blush anymore. She nodded in response and left with a speed I wouldn't have thought she possessed.

That left Alex and I facing each other. With the waitress interrupting and him the oldest, he declared our game over. "Some things never change do they?" He stated leaning back with his arms across his chest.

I just almost snorted in response and disbelief. "Even with this atrocious shade of red?" I asked pointing at where my normally almost platinum blonde locks would be.

He just shrugged. "I always knew you were going to be a looker. Oh." He pulled out a black hat. "Put this on. If I'm correct, your mother's charm should be wearing off soon."

Accepting the hat, I recognized it as a type muggleborns wore when out of school. I believe they called them caps. "She wasn't just looking at me you know."

He again shrugged before taking a good look at my hair before I placed the cap on. "Eh. She did a really good job with that. It looks so natural."

"Yours are good too. All of them." I responded taking a drink of water.

Alex responded with a smirk firmly planted on his face. "What if I told you I'm only wearing two?"

I snatched my head up. "You're bloody kidding me!" I immediately regretted it afterwards. I started feeling hot and fuzzy. Not in those ways mind you. Shit. _Veritaserum_ "Veritaserum?!"

Alex nodded. Sodding bastard. Maybe he did meet up Moody. Anyways, he looked at me with a smirk that I was already beginning to find annoying. "What is your full name?"

"Draco Aidan Malfoy" No. It's Harry Potter, really. You couldn't pay me enough. Nodding, he took a drink of his water.

"What school do you attend and what year?"

"Hogwarts. Six year." I responded.

"Lovely, what are your views on Voldemort?" He asked. Whoa. He said his name. I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing yet.

"Snake faced bastard with sadistic tendencies making promises of power that he will never keep with us supposedly superior pureblooded wizards as his bitches intent on harming people who do not have the means to protect themselves." Okay, I must admit that was a little liberating to say that out loud.

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Whoa, Mr. Malfoy. Concise yet comprehensive. Do you have any intentions of joining Voldemort?"

After all I just said. "No, you git. Didn't you gather that from the last question?" I manage to grit out. I could feel the potion starting to wear off.

He sat up and looked me straight in the eyes. "Last question. What is my full name?"

With the potion wearing off and me being slightly, only slightly, livid at my dear cousin for administering truth serum, I decided to give him the truth with an even extended version. I was going to tell him this later, but no time better than the present right. "Alexander Ignacio Malfoy…" I waited for him to relax. He picked up his glass again before I decided to continue. "…Lord of the Noble House of Malfoy."

I had to smirk at the immediate response I got from him. He sat the glass down looking at me like I was a Dementor before he recovered immediately. "What?! No. But…Lucius."

Before he could get a full sentence out and before I could provide an explanation, our easily flushed waitress returned with our food. After she left, he immediately put up a hand halting the explanation I was about to give. "Let's save that conversation for a later time."

"Let's." I responded with a sneer still slightly peeved about the Veritaserum. "You could have just asked me to open my mind you know." I stated digging into the food.

"No. I couldn't." He replied looking up with a quick smile. "And besides, this way was just more fun." _Prat_

"Why couldn't you?" If I let him in, all he had to do was say _Legilimens_ and it would have been done.

"Another conversation for another time, Draco." And with that we fell into eating in silence with the exception of interruptions from the waitress.

On our way out of the restaurant, I looked towards the windows and saw that it was clearly dark. That brought back all the questions that plagued me from Alex and even the taxi driver. "Alex. What's so terrible about night time here that I got a random warning from a taxi driver in addition to you?"

Turning to face me as he walked. "What's your knowledge level on vampires and lycanthropes? I'm not sure what the ministry has and hasn't changed since I left." _Lycanwhat? Vampires? What?_ Here's to three years of inept DADA professors.

I was about to respond when Alex stopped abruptly in front of me catching a bag that fell from the woman's hand due to him bumping into her I guess. Silently wondering why Alex was still standing there, I took a closer look at the young woman as she faced him. She was short and curvy with long dark hair, but had skin that was almost as pale as mine and that was saying something. She had a no nonsense air about her, not as much as McGonagall mind you, but it was there. There was also something else that I just couldn't put my finger on, but I just felt it. Something was off with her. However, before I could think anymore on the topic, her voice interrupted my thoughts when she addressed Alex. "What brings you to town Edward?" _Edward_? _What?_


	4. Chapter 4: Welcome to St Louis

**Chapter Four: **Welcome to St. Louis

Thinking about the events that transpired less than a month ago, I couldn't help but wonder how on Earth did I get myself into these situations. I am in a semi-erotic power partnership with a vampire and a werewolf. There's no punch line after this statement because I really am in an erotic power partnership with a vampire and a werewolf. It seems just like yesterday when I was killing these beings without a second glance. Talk about eating your humble pie. Now one of them has shared my bed and I was not the least bit regretful about it. But now I was regretful that I was not regretful if that makes any sense. Hold up. _Shared my bed. _God, I'm even starting to sound like him.

Annoyed that I was confusing myself, I decided to concentrate my attention on something I could fix, my hunger. I use to term hunger lightly since I haven't had that much of an appetite since the Richard and the park feasted on Marcus a la carte. I wanted to smack myself at the thought of the Ulfric that is currently not speaking to me. It would be my luck to be bound to a person who currently hates my guts. Not that I can totally blame him mind you, but it's no less annoying. Again, trying to get my mind off the 12 story drop that is my personal life, I went into Chancey's to get to a Chicken Caesar Salad; red meat brings up bad memories, okay. After my order was ready, I turned to leave and would have almost immediately bumped into someone if they hadn't seen me coming. Looking up into his face my bag dropped from my hand. Edward. Taking him in from head to toe, I saw he was in his black jeans and black shirt which almost was classic assassin gear. This didn't sound good.

Edward was in town and hadn't done his routine breaking and entering. I do not know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. The last time I spoke to him, he told me that I owed him a favor due to me killing Harvey and way he said it did not have me thinking that was a good thing. But I guess it could be worse; he could have asked for a draw down. I had no idea he was here and worse I had no idea what "business" he was on in the town. I couldn't help but wonder was he after someone and if so, who? More importantly, were they anyone I knew?

Knowing how long Edward can go without saying something, I decided to break the ice. "What brings you to town Edward?"

Handing me back my bag, he replied in a way that I wouldn't say was usual for him. He looked at me dead on in a way that I remembered from the freak party. It meant _play along or else. _"Nothing of the usual variety. I guess you could say I'm on vacation. I'm just showing my little cousin around." With that he moved out of the way and gave me a view of the young man in question. I expected a reaction from the kid at the words "little cousin" like most teenagers, but it appears he was too busy to notice because he was staring at me. He stared at me like I was a puzzle he was trying to decipher and was having problems.

He must have noticed he was staring, so he blinked and stuck his hand out and out came a clearly British accent. "Hi, I'm Matt. Nice to meet you."

I was about to respond when my hand connected with his. I felt a rush of power unknown to anything I had ever felt before. Almost instinctively, I felt my necromancy flare against the foreign magic, but I quashed it down. It felt warm. Not hot like a lycanthrope and not cold like death magic. Just warm. However, before I could analyze it any further, he took his hand back very quickly, but not quick enough to make a scene, and his stare narrowed.

Finally deciding to take all of him in, he was about a little over six feet with grey eyes and red hair hiding under a baseball cap. But there was something about the little hair I did see. It seemed like there was something surrounding his hair, kind of like the glamour I encountered at the Bouviers, but not. The kid had magic, but I didn't know what flavor. He's hanging out with Edward; who says it's his cousin. Anyone hanging out with Edward makes me wary and then add in foreign magic and his wariness of me. Yep. He goes on the alert list, but I decided to play it cool. "Nice to meet you. I'm Anita. I hope you enjoy your stay in St. Louis."

In my peripheral vision, I saw Edward staring at us with a raised eyebrow and brought the attention back to him. "I'm sure he will." I noticed he wore a smug smile on his face, one that I took as amusement. "Yeah. We will be here for about two weeks and I'm showing him all the sights St. Louis has to offer."

"What does St. Louis have to offer?" I asked wrapping my arms around me. Yeah, I was trying to pry, but this was Edward. Who knows what's going on and it was not like he was going to tell me much anyway.

Running his hands through his hair, he turned to look at me with a ghost of a smirk on his face. He knew what I was trying to do and surprisingly responded with a lot more than I thought he was. "Matt comes from a very sheltered family, so there is a lot that he doesn't know about the world in general, let alone the preternatural world. Since, he knows next to nothing, I'm trying to take him to the safest of places so he can adequately explore and learn. As much as it pains me to admit it, this is probably one of the safest places for him to learn about preternaturals. Between Jean Claude, RPIT, and yourself, you guys have done a good job keeping them in line."

Wait one minute. Did Edward just comment me? Better yet, did Edward just comment Jean-Claude? No fang face. What's happening with the world? Next, Dolph is going to be singing show tunes when I go into RPIT headquarters. This was not Edward behavior and I was about to remind him of it when I remembered his guest whom he clearly didn't want to know about his occupation yet. Just when I was about to formulate a response, I was cut off by Edward glancing at his watch. "Sorry to cut you short Anita, but Matt and I have to make our show. I'll see you around." He glanced up at me with a smile and went for the door with his "cousin" dead behind him and leaving me slightly gaping at the bar.

After standing there for a moment, I made my way the jeep replaying the interaction in my head. Did Edward just dish out comments? Hell, did Edward just smile? The unEdward like behavior threw me for a loop. Can you imagine a congenial Edward? That's what he almost was. With the behavior change, he managed not to seem so assassin like to his "cousin" yet head me off at the same time. That bastard! Being around Jean-Claude, I should have known better by now. I was just manipulated and manipulated well. What do you know? Point to Edward.

* * *

"What the bloody hell was that?" I demanded of Alex as soon as we got a good distance away from the restaurant. I had never felt power like that before in my life. It was so cold that I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up before it abruptly ended like she had control over it.

"What?" Alex or should I say Edward responded looking puzzled despite the fact I could see the humor in his eyes. After a transatlantic flight, changing clothes and appearance like an Unspeakable, and the overall stress of what's going on, I did not have the time or the patience for this.

"What? _What?_" I asked lowering my voice to keep from attracting attention. "Well, _Edward,_ I would like to know who the Hell that lady was and why the Hell did I feel cold to my bones when I shook her hand. What's with the alias, _Edward_? You confirmed my identity, but with all that is going on, I'm thinking maybe I need to do something to confirm yours."

The amusement in his eyes spread to the rest of face and kept walking until he got to a green automobile. He leaned on the door and crossed his arms. "Good time to ask. You know _Draconis_, for a cunning sharp Slytherin, you have been very off your game tonight. If I had wanted to do something to you, I could have slipped you something a lot more interesting than Veritaserum in that water and you know it. You were always a cranky one when tired and you let everyone knew it too."

Yes to all of the above. First, this was definitely Alex. He was the only person who would ever call me Draconis despite it not being my name. Second, I was not nearly as attentive as I should have been when I got to that table. There are plenty of nasty potions out there that look just like water. Again, I am tired and cranky and therefore, I am not at best, or worse depending on whose evaluating it.

Cringing at the Draconis, I replied "Damn straight. But getting back to my initial question, what the bloody hell was that?"

"_That _my wayward cousin was Anita Blake," he said as he opened the doors the vehicle, "vampire hunter, lycanthrope hunter, and necromancer."

"Necromancer! She's a necromancer!" I said as I probably turned two shades paler in pallor, "And she still walks the streets." What little I did know about necromancers was that these were people that you did not want to mess with. They had an affinity for death and death magic of course was deemed dark magic. In Britain, anyone caught practicing death magic was sent to Azkaban, no excuses.

Continuing on as almost as if he didn't hear me Alex stated, "What you probably felt was her magic reacting to your magic, which she felt. Better yet, I know she felt, but she doesn't know what type of magic. That's why I left so abruptly to avoid the twenty questions. It's probably going to bug the hell out of her for ages."

Attempting to pull this all in I restated. "Okay. First, I'm in the muggle world where necromancers walk around with no restrictions or recourse. Second, she sensed my magic and I was scared nearly to incontinence by her magic."

"Yeah. That's about it for now. Now get in the car." He said with amusement coloring his voice.

"_For now_. That sounds nice and ominous."

"Why do you think we are here for two weeks? I know you are aching for a bed right now. But in the next few days, prepare to have your mind blown. Oh and seatbeats." Seeing my puzzled expression, he added, "The band of fabric beside the door. It keeps you from bumbling about like you do on the Knight Bus."

"Okay." I said as I fastened the band around me and then we were off. As I felt myself drifting off to sleep I heard Alex mumble.

"_Incontinence Drake? Can't you say piss your pants like other sixteen year olds?"_

* * *

Once reaching the hotel, the conversation was reduced to null due to overall fatigue on my part and as for Alex part, it appears that he was just used to silence unlike other people who would just start rattling off about nothing to just feel said silence. I must admit that it was a much welcomed difference.

After a decent night's sleep, I was more amiable and awoke to Alex coming into the hotel with a decent size bag.

"You're up early. I didn't know you were gone." I said rubbing my eyes as I got out of bed. Alex glanced at my recent state and nodded.

"Yeah, we're going to have to work on that. I went ahead and ordered breakfast while I was down stairs. It should be here soon. But for now, I need you to make a choice and you are going to have to live with this choice for at least the next two weeks." After giving that statement, he pulled five small boxes out of the bag. Reading the boxes, I noticed all of them were titled _Loving Care _and the only differences amongst them were the pictures of the people on the boxes. The hair colors were different ranging for dirty blonde to jet black. Putting two and two together, I turned to Alex and gave him my view on the idea. "No."

"Draco. You can't walk around with your natural color. It's too noticeable and it's natural. You're trying to avoid attention, not seek it out. Genetically, very few people are that blonde. As much as it pains me to admit it, the Malfoy's are known for their hair color if nothing else. You will get a bunch of questions that you will be unable to answer."

"So why not another glamour charm then?" I said glancing at one of the boxes that said auburn delight with the pseudo-redhead smiling on the front.

"Other than the fact that I can't cast any spells right now; charms and spells can be cancelled. People with magical eyes can see through them easily and some people, even some non-magicals, can sense the energy that goes into long lasting charms like that. With chemical dye, the only thing you have to watch out for is you new growth. No worry of cancellation charms because it's not magic." Alex responded. Knowing I didn't have anything to stand on other than just being difficult, I moved on to another area of interest as I perused through the different colors hoping to catch him off guard.

"Why can't you do magic?" He looked like he was about answer when he put up a hand halting any conversation. I don't know how he could tell, but seconds later there was a knock at the door.

After a quick breakfast, I showered and emerged from the bathroom as a redhead for the sake of consistency to get a rundown of our stay in St. Louis. I was a little more than shocked that for the whole course of this stay, we would be going around as muggles on a holiday. During the daytime, we would just go around and explore muggle culture and customs and to get to know the city itself. However at night, I would learn about what is called "preternatural" St. Louis. Goody.

* * *

Over the next two weeks, my fragile little world was turned upside down, well more than it was already. On the first day of this adventure that is St. Louis, Alex bought me some more clothes to help me blend in more with my age group and we toured different parts of the city ranging from the arch to actually going on the campus of Washington University. Matter of fact we spent a good amount of time on the campus and I must admit that I enjoyed the sights, all of them if you know what I mean. While there, Alex began explaining to me some of the basics about the muggle world.

"What some people lack in magic, they make up for in ingenuity." Alex said as I sat taking in the sight of young men and women around my age going to their classes with devices attached to their ears. Some talked back to the devices while others didn't. Others were laid out in the grass with devices in their laps that they typed letters into and communicate with people from all over the world according to Alex. It looked like it might be something really of interest.

However, if I was amazed in the daytime, few words could describe what I felt at night. For my first step into the preternatural realm, Alex took me out to dinner at a place called the Lunatic Café. Going in, I was initially disappointed looking at the people who frequented the place, but not in the way one would think. Now that I think back on it, I don't know what I was looking for, but it wasn't the casual bar restaurant feel of the Three Broomsticks with what appeared to be muggles of all types bustling about. With that in mind, I looked at Alex in question as we took our seats.

"This is the Lunatic Café. Other than selling pretty good food from what I heard, it is also one of the main hangout spots for Lycanthropes. Speaking of which, the main groups in the city are the wolves, rats, leopards, and lions. The wolves are the largest in number, but the rats may be stronger right now due to a power shift in the wolf pack."

The man had only spoken four sentences and I was already confused. "Rats? Leopards? I'm sorry, but you are going to have to start from the beginning. The only thing I know about is the wolves that turn on a full moon." And that wasn't much.

"The world is too connected now for this sought of ignorance. No offence to you, but you have to admit something is off Drake." I nodded in agreement wondering about who's, the whys, and the how's.

Alex continued, "I'm just going to give this to you in the American non-magical perspective. Lycanthropy is viewed as a lifelong disease despite the fact they have a type of magic. The wolf form is the most contagious form and therefore is the most heard about. However, there are various types ranging from the big cats, to bears, and even snakes. Due to it being viewed as a disease here, it is technically illegal to discriminate against anyone."

Having heard him say that, it made me think about Lupin who was one of the decent defense professors we had. For the few times I did see the man, he constantly looked like he had seen and lived in Hell. Better yet, what made him stay in Britain when he could have been living it up here? "So you are saying that they are just like everyone else except that they can lift the both of us over their head without breaking a sweat and can turn into animals once a month?"

"No and no." Alex replied appearing to look behind me, at what I don't know. "No matter how much some of them want to, they will never be just human. Animal instincts will always be there whether they fight it, embrace it, or compromise with it. They usually form groups for protection, support, and a means to retain order. Whether its pack, pard, flock or school, there will a select few at the top keeping the others in check and this is usually based on those animal instincts. As to the second part of your question, they can shift anytime they want and some can even partially shift to a man beast hybrid form."

Trying to get a grasp of the situation I asked looking up at Alex, "So other than their groups, what's to stop them from suddenly deciding to rip me to pieces if they ever so desired?"

However, my answer didn't come from Alex, who was looking at the man suddenly standing at my left with something I'd like to call calculating indifference. "It's the same thing that keeps you from waking up one morning and deciding to blow away all of your classmates. Right, Edward?"

With that I turned around and saw the man looking at Alex straight in the eyes yet his expressions seemed to alternate between disgust and resignation. About what, I don't know. But I also saw something else, determination. Before I could take in anymore of his features, my attention was directed back to Alex with his one word response. "True." Sensing there was a story here that I knew nothing about I decided to sit back and watch were it went.

Our mystery person was about to say more until someone yelled out. "Hey, Richard! You've got company."

The stranger named Richard turned in the direction of the voice and I could have sworn the temperature shot up a few degrees in our immediate area. I turned glanced towards Alex and I saw him looking in the direction of Richard's gaze, or should I say glare. Making her way over to our table was again Anita Blake and from the looks of it she was trying to mask shock. However, before I could begin to wonder what Ms. Blake was shocked about, Alex stood up. "Come on Matt. We gotta go." The movement from Alex must have jogged Richard from his own thoughts and he tried to say what ever he needed to say, "Edward, I just wanted to tell you…"

"Don't worry about it. I have a feeling you have bigger issues to worry about and I just realized that I had someone else I had to meet up with." Alex responded already beginning to move through the tables with me struggling to keep up. Taking glance behind me I saw Richard storming off into another section of the café, leaving Ms. Blake in a quandary. I took it she followed after Richard considering she didn't follow us out of the restaurant.

Once outside, I found myself repeating words that I had found my self saying a lot these past few days. "Now what was that all about? Because if I didn't know better, it would appear that you were chased out of a restaurant by a girl."

"And this is one time you would be right because I did not feel like playing twenty questions and I sure did not want to listen to what was about to go down between those two or should I say three." Alex said running a hand through his hair.

"Three?" I inquired trying to get some semblance of what happened.

"I'll give you the whole story later. It will require plenty of background. If I tell you now, you will have more questions than answers. Back to our main reason for being here, would you believe that over three-fourths of the persons you saw in that café were lycanthropes? "

"I don't really know what to believe anymore. No one looked abnormal to me." I replied.

"Yeah. For the most part they can look just like you and me, but there are some telling characteristics that can't be hidden. You'll learn the rest of these when we get home among other things." Alex stated walking ahead.

"_Among other things._ Is it me or do you just like being vague?"

"What can I say, it's a gift."

* * *

A few days later our focus moved from the lycanthropes to the vampires and Alex took me to the circus of all places. From what little I retained in muggle studies, the circus was primarily for kids. All Alex told me was that this was not an ordinary circus, but a circus ran by vampires. Now who in their right mine would bring their kid to a circus ran by vampires? All Alex said was that that had been a question for the ages.

As we moved through the crowd of men, women, and children baring edible pink clouds and painted faces, Alex continued in lecture mode. "Nonetheless, it's one of the most popular family attractions in St. Louis. Since we don't have an ID saying you are of age yet, I can't take you into some of the more risqué preternatural hotspots."

"Risqué?" I inquired with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, there are some nightclubs ran by the preternatural and there is also a strip club or four with lycanthropes and vamps on stage." He replied as we finally found our seats.

Feeling a little cheeky, I could not resist the opening given. "Strip clubs? And how would you have inquired knowledge of these strip clubs dear cousin?"

He turned toward me gracing me with a smirk. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Our conversation deteriorated into barbs ranging from sexual preference to sexual prowl ness, or the lack thereof, being thrown back and forth with Alex winning with a snide remark having to do with the words pretty, vampires, bisexual, virgin, and blonde. _Git. I do not look like vampire boy meat! …And definitely not male vampire boy meat! _

Alex must have noticed my stewing. "Let's face Drake. Malfoy males happen to fall more on the pretty side of good looking rather than the handsome."

"The same can be said for you." I stated noticing the lights dim in the tent.

"Yes it can, which is why dying my hair and getting a tan were among the first things I did after leaving England." Alex replied. "The show is about to start and I want to you to bring your shields up to their full capacity."

I followed his heed thinking about the introduction he had given me on vampires. I didn't even want to think about how a true pureblood supremacist would feel if they found out that they were just as much prey to a vampire as a muggle. Occumency could clue you in to the fact that you were being rolled, but in the end you were just as defenseless as a muggle. The only thing Occumency could remotely fight against was mass rolling and that was likely due to the spread resources on the part of the vampire. Then you add in the fact that most wizards don't even know occumency. During certain parts of the show, I could feel something seeping through my shields and knew it was the mass rolling as the trapeze troupe did some interesting moves did some interesting aerial stunts moving almost too fast to be seen.

All in all, it was actually entertaining until a pretty woman wearing a pretty revealing outfit stepped into center ring. At first everything was beautiful and she was beautiful as she moved hypnotically to the beat of the music resembling a temptress luring you into a trap of some sought. Little did I know that that was what her dance appeared to be about as the music grew darker and at least twenty snakes gravitated towards the woman and moved to bind her legs as she writhed sensually to the music and to the movement of the snakes. I vaguely heard in the background the ooh's and awe's of other audience members as they watched the spectacle and I had to admit that it was bloody amazing that she had that much trust or training in those snakes to interact with them in that manner. However, as the snakes started to remove themselves from the lower part of her body, my awe turned into fear, and I just felt this suffocating presence surrounding bringing back the last three weeks and all that occurred. In place of the woman's legs was the body of a snake and looking even closer, I could see the woman's mouth moving. But the movement of the tongue and lips resembled no language known by common man. So far I had only seen it spoken by two people: Potter & The Dark Lord. _So much for my mood._ I felt my self stand up and I felt Alex pull me back down as I struggled to rid myself of that suffocating feeling and the things this language represented in my life. The pressure… The Dark Lord… My mother… My father…My line…My Future… _My life._ I take it I was losing my battle for air when I noticed other patrons asking Alex if I was okay between the fuzziness appearing in my eyes. As darkness finally swallowed people me, I couldn't help but wonder is there a record somewhere for encountering three parseltongues in a lifetime and living to tell the tale. _Wow, aren't I'm special?_

* * *

As I came back through, I wondered what had happened to me. I had never felt so suffocated in my life. Before I could think anymore on the issue, I heard voices surrounding me.

"He's coming through." A foreign male voice said.

"Good. We should be out of your hair soon. Just give him a few minutes." Alex replied as I felt him come towards my direction.

"It is of no inconvenience Monsieur Edward. Are you sure your charge doesn't require additional assistance?" A new voice questioned; it was one that was French in origin and oh so cultured.

"If you want to know if there will be any action taken against the circus or the lamia, the answer is no. Matt had a phobia of snakes and it was my fault for failing to remember this part of the show. If there is anyone who should be asking Matt for apologies, it should be me." Alex replied with a hint of a smile in voice. "Don't look so contrite Jean-Claude, it's not like I'm going to kill you or something. This was Matt's problem and it is something he needs to face anyway." '_Contrite' And you talk about my vocabulary. Pots and cauldrons, Alex. Pots and cauldrons. _

However as I sat up and opened my eyes, I noticed I was not the only one slightly baffled with Alex's vocabulary shift. Besides Alex and myself, I noticed two more blokes in the room. One was standing at the door in a relaxed stance. Combining this with his dirty blonde hair and blue eyes gave him a lighthearted vibe of a sort. Right now however, he was looking at Alex as if he had flashed him. The second guy however drew my attention the most, namely his clothes did it for him. The shirt he was wearing was something I had recognized. The problem however was that I had recognized the shirt from the portrait of my six times great uncle Glodius Malfoy painted in the year 1657 by Eduardo Valdez while on business in Spain. Even in the Wizarding world, billowing puffy shirts weren't the norm. He finished the look off with knee high black boots that met a pair of actual knickers, and not the underwear kind, that looked like they were painted on to almost openly tell the world if one was gifted or cursed if you know what I mean. Shaking myself off from the shock of the clothes, I finally turned my attention to the man in the clothes and I had to pull back a smile because I had finally found someone paler than myself. Similar to the Malfoys in this respect, the man fell more on the pretty side of good looking with aristocratic features and a shoulder length crown of loose curly black hair that reminded me of my mother's relations. He stood there looking at Alex with nothing on his face, which probably meant he was either surprised or in a deep ponder about something. But I must admit I had never seen anyone hold themselves with as much stillness as this. Snape flexed his hands and Lucius was a feet tapper. The point being was that almost everyone had an outlet if you looked for it, even the most stoic. It was almost like this bloke was dead. Just when I was about to get to eyes, Alex walked into my field of vision.

"Matt, do you remember what I told you about vampires?" He asked with his voice taking a lecturing tone. I nodded in response. "Ok, well then you remember the number one rule when one encounters a vampire?"

"Never look them in the eyes." I replied as I stared at Alex. Feeling the need to redeem my self I replied, "I had just woken up and I didn't even know until I noticed the 17th century dress."

"I know eye contact was instilled in you, but most won't notice the difference if you look at their foreheads if you are unsure." Alex replied taking a glance at now identified vampire behind him before turning back to me with a smile that looked a little teasing. "One slipup can cost you your life, your blood, your freedom, your dignity…"

However before Alex could continue, my opinion about the light-heated blond was solidified when he interrupted Alex. "Jeez, talk about putting the fear of God into the kid. Aren't you just a ball of sunshine?" Glancing over at me, he threw a hand in the air. "By the way, I'm Jason."

Alex shot the newly named Jason a look I couldn't see. If the Jason's facial expression was any sign, I believe it was not a nice look. "He has to learn. Consider it a gift. I could be teaching him _other_ means of dealing with preternatural creatures." His tone was one I had heard plenty times from Lucius when he was dealing with business partners and the ministry. It was polite and amiable, but somewhere in between you felt the promise of unpleasantness for whomever it was directed. From the silence that had permeated the room, these two felt that promise and I couldn't help but wonder who the bloody Hell Alex was. I still knew next to nothing about his life.

The silence that was at least five second and yet felt like five hours dissolved when Alex turned back to me. "Are you okay?" I nodded in response before taking a quick glance at the vampire who was watching Alex with great interest. Alex must have noticed my lack of response and followed my gaze because he suddenly went back into lecture mode. "Aside from the basic information I have given to you, there are some others who rise above this level and become something that they call Master Vampire. They are usually stronger magically and physically than regular vamps and have some amount of control over vamps who aren't masters." He gestured his hand out to the vampire. "This is Jean-Claude. He is one of the vampires that run this Circus. How old do you think he is and how powerful do you think he is?"

Thinking it over, I responded. "Well he could technically choose to wear clothes from any century he wanted just as much as you and me, but I think everyone would feel a special kinship for the century they were actually born and the fashions of its time. So I would go out on a limb and say somewhere around 400 even though he doesn't look a day over thirty. As for strength, looks can be deceiving. He doesn't exude that '_I am powerful bow down before me or fear my wrath_.' aura that some persons in charge exude. On the contrary, he may just be that secure in his power and position that he doesn't feel he needs to put on a show. We're just two humans, so we are really no threat technically." I then noticed a look exchanged between Jason and the vampire in question. "In terms of power and strength, I have no clue."

Coming closer to the couch I was sitting on, Jean-Claude spoke. "Monsieur Edward, your young charge has an excellent sense of deductive reasoning. You are correct sir in your estimation of my age. I am 415 years and was 26 when turned. As for my power level, I am a master." In the background, I could have sworn I heard Jason snort and mumble _'…more like the Master'_.

Alex nodded, "Good answers. There are also some Master powers that may vary by vampire. They are flight, the ability to control an animal or were animal, the ability to rise early, a resistance to silver, the ability to call shadows, the ability to obtain a human servant, which we will get into more in depth later. They also have the ability to draw blood from a distance, the ability to drain the power from vampires they have personally sired, and the ability to create an emotional or hypnotic link with their voices."

"An accurate description, Edward." Jean-Claude said and I immediately jumped up from my seat much to the amusement of the others in the room realizing Jean-Claude had the power of voice. That was just wrong. I am very secure in my preferences, but the feeling of the silk sliding over my skin threw me off guard. Then add in the fact that it was another male and that I had met just five minutes and that is technically dead.

Alex looked at me with a raised eyebrow as he stood to go towards the door. "I see your feeling better. We won't take up any more of Jean-Claude. Thank you."

"It's of no consequence, mon ami." Jean-Claude replied as Jason followed us through what appeared to be a huge under complex and out into the night air.

Once we got to the automobile and a little ways from the circus, Alex asked the damning question. "What happened in there Drake?"

I didn't even want to think about it, let alone talk about it. So I did the natural Slytherin response to a question I didn't want to answer. "So how do you know them?"

Alex glanced at me and he must have seen something in my face because he let me change the topic. "Anita. So what did you think of the two?"

"Well from what I've seen, Jason appears to be an alright bloke even though I can't help but wonder why he is hanging around with a vampire. As for Jean-Claude, the massaging voice thing spooked my out a little. Otherwise, he seemed pretty decent. With the powers at his disposal, I can't even begin to think what some others would do." I turned to see a look of puzzlement on his face.

"Massaging voice? So he can make it selective." Alex mumbled to himself.

"Are you telling me you didn't feel anything that felt like silk running across your skin?"

Glancing at me, Alex shook his head with a ghost of a smirk on his face. "He knows that due to my line of work, I am may not react kindly to such surprises."

Tempted at the opportunity to finally gleam some information about him, I asked. "What do you do?"

"I track down people. I'll give you a longer explanation when we get home." Hmm. Maybe he's an auror or an investigator of some sort. Possibly a muggle auror.

"Where's home?" I said getting comfortable in the seat.

"New Mexico for now. Now were you wary of the two?"

"No more than anyone else that I am meeting for the first time."

"Wrong. Number one rule Drake: Looks can be deceiving. Don't forget it. Jason is a werewolf and Jean-Claude is the master in charge of most the other vampires in the city. They could each rip you apart faster than you could say _Accio._" I could feel the blood draining for my face.

"Are you just telling me I just met the bloody Master of the City?! Next you're going to be telling me Jason's the head wolf." I grumbled. Did this git seriously find this funny?

"No, that's Richard." He replied with a cat that ate the canary look on his face.

"Do you like to get your jollies off playing with me like this and with potentially dangerous people like this?"

Alex answer I could see all humor was gone from his voice. "Why do you think we are here? This is the only place where we can _play around _and return in one piece. And that is because I have an understanding with them. You are here to live and you are here to learn. I ensured your mother that I would do everything in my power to make sure you would do as such because considering the circumstances; it appears you are going to have to learn in order to live. The point of this lesson was to get you in habit of treating everyone as a potential threat at first. I know it's not the most satisfying means of existing, but it will keep you alive. Most of the people you have met during your time here have been fatally dangerous even if they don't look it. Recognize that and you will get far."

After that, all we had was silence. After about five minutes, I actually debated turning on the radio he had taught me how to use. Right when I was about to reach for the button, his amused voice cut through the silence. "Although, I can't deny being amazed and amused in your ability to go from healthy pale to alabaster white in zero to five seconds. I can't tell the difference between you and a fed vampire when you're scared shitless." _Gee, thanks for the compliment Alex._


	5. Chapter 5: The Home Front Part 1

**Chapter Five: **The Home Front Part 1

**Two Weeks After Draco's Departure**

It felt so good to be back on the Hogwarts Express watching the countryside go by in a blur. However, no matter how beautiful and nostalgic the atmosphere may be; it is unable to cloak the dismal mood that permeates our compartment. _Sirius_ Harry's Godfather. Harry's chance at unconditional acceptance. Harry's great link to his parents. Harry's escape. Ron and I can't fathom the thought of losing so many important people in one's life thus severely handicapping any decent creation of advice and making any verbal support seem fruitless. All we can do is to be there for him when he needs us.

Watching said boy from the reflection in the window, I saw him and Ron engaged in a conversation regarding quiddich. A mask. Anyone who doesn't really know him thinks everything is normal until he was by himself. He then takes on a broodiness reminiscent of Snape. We worry for him and he worries for us. Nothing is comfortable. Needing some air from the suffocating environment, I made my way out of the compartment searching for either Ginny or Luna. Walking through the aisle, I immediately spotted the light blonde through the compartment window, the only person blonder being Malfoy. About to knock I paused when I heard what sounded like exclamations from a nearly full compartment. Stealing a quick glance, the company seemed to have been composed of fifth and sixth year Ravenclaws crowded around some piece of parchment.

"Bloody Hell! Not again!" A voice I recognized as Terry Boot yelled before the others motioned for him to decrease his volume. "Granger and Malfoy again for first and second place."

"By the looks of this, Ravenclaw won't be having a valedictorian or salutatorian for our graduating year." A boy I recognized as Anthony Goldstein mentioned. How on earth did they get a copy of the class rankings anyway? Padma and I must have been on the same brainwave because she asked the same question.

"I have contacts." The girl I recognized as Lisa Turpin responded cryptically. "Anyways, look on the bright side. It could have been worse. Malfoy could have been first and we would have had to listen to that git rubbing it in our face and contributing it to pureblood superiority. And we all know just by looking at her if it weren't for her ultra Scooby gang tendencies, Granger would be a Ravenclaw." I didn't have a chance to feel remotely offended at the American muggle reference before Boot cut back in.

"Yeah. But I probably would have questioned the authenticity of this list if a Hufflepuff had been at the top." Well. That wasn't nice and apparently Mandy Brocklehurst didn't think so either since she shot him a scathing glare.

"People make me sick with these house prejudices and believing that the qualities of the house are exclusive only to that house! Need I remind you that Cedric Diggory was one of our Tri-Wizard champions? You can't be dense and survive those matches. If he had lived, he would have graduated third in his year. A Hufflepuff." Whoa. Who would have known?

"Okay. Okay. I didn't mean to ignite your wrath Mandy. Not to offend the other houses, it just feels strange not seeing a Ravenclaw leading the pack." Boot replied sounding properly chastised.

"The way I see it: You work hard and do your best. Forget the houses and forget the rankings." A new voice emerged that I recognized as Michael Corner.

Padma replied to him with faux bitterness in her voice. "That's easy for you to say Mister number three. Anyways, it's not a big deal. Our pride is still in tact whether they know it or not. It's not like any of us or they are near to reaching the level of _The Ghost_." _The Ghost? Huh?_ Realizing that I had been out there entirely too long and that it now officially counted as eavesdropping, I knocked on the compartment door and I heard all conversation come to a stop. Peeking my head inside the door, I addressed everyone there and asked to sit with them for a while. Everyone acquiesced and I sat next to Luna who haven't really said anything.

Everyone broke off into their individual conversations with other people while I caught up with Luna as to what she did over the summer. As she went on talking about the fictional creatures she searched for and how she helped her father with the _Quibbler_, I couldn't help but wonder about this Ghost that they spoke of. Apparently it was only a Ravenclaw secret otherwise it would have been in the _Hogwarts History._ Really, I don't try to know everything and I know I don't know everything. But curiosity gets the best of me at times and this was one of those times. The worse they could do was not tell me, right? Gathering some of that Gryffindor courage, I decided to ask Luna the question that I had wanted to ask since I first came in. "Luna. You guys don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but what were you guys talking about when you mentioned _The Ghost_?"

All conversations stopped. Turning my head from Luna, I saw all the other Ravenclaws looking at each other as if they were having some sought of silent conversation. The looks varied from clear rejection to tentative acceptance. Turning back to Luna, I saw her look at the others without any hesitation or odd facial expressions on her face. "So what do you guys think?"

Boot responded immediately. "We are a close knit group of people. We just don't go sprouting our secrets off for all to hear."

"But it's not really our secret when you think about it. We just like to hold it as exclusively ours because he was one of us. It's cool to know some things that aren't in _Hogwarts History_ like who the Marauders were for example." Mandy stated. Personally, I think she likes playing Devil's Advocate to Boot.

Padma spoke up. "However, this appears not to be something as harmless as a group of practical jokers. It's not in _Hogwarts History_ and it was barely a blurb in the _Daily Prophet_. Someone wanted this covered up and intended for it to stay that way. For all we know, letting knowledge come out that we know something about this may be dangerous in itself." Okay. My curiosity was definitely getting the better of me.

Apparently getting tired of the back and forth Luna butted in." If it's that important to be kept secret, then Hermione will have no problems taking a Witch's Oath if she wants to know. It would be good if she knew you know. It's not too often she is able to hear truly excellent things about muggle-borns other than herself." All eyes then fell on me. Did I really want to make a wizard's oath over a secret? Luna must have been reading my mind because she continued. "What about that spell you used to keep people from mentioning the DA?"

"O.K. I can do that." I responded with a nod. Luna then murmured the spell and I felt the familiar warm glow come over me.

"So who wants to start talking?" Lisa asked looking around at the other Ravenclaws. Seeing no one was about to speak, she opened her mouth, but was cut off by Michael.

"From the little I heard from my cousin, his name was Alex Mallioux and he was beyond brilliant. American muggle-born with a stellar record. He was prefect for six years and the first person we ever heard of to decline the position for head boy."

"What?!" I couldn't believe it. As much as I hate to admit because it plays into everyone's conceptions about me, I had been dreaming of that position since my second year at Hogwarts. Despite it being done by Lily Evans, muggle-borns still weren't regarded high in Wizarding society. They probably thought her achievements were a fluke. Me getting that position would be one large step in proving to everyone who believed otherwise that I did belong here and that we are competent members of this society. Then hearing that there existed another muggle-born who excelled yet declined the honor, I couldn't help but be a little peeved at this mystery person.

Nodding her head Luna continued the story. "Yep. He did. The student body and the professors were a little more than surprised. But that was a few of many things that changed about him during his seventh year."

My curiosity getting at me again. "How do you know so much about this?"

"My aunt was one of the closest people to him and from what I gathered from her, he was not an easy person to get close to. She described him as the quiet, studious sort yet had very guarded "Slytherin like qualities" without all the meanness and hate. Anyways, he was wiping the floor with everyone else up until the end of sixth year holding the top spot in potions, charms, DADA, and spell theory. Few people have held more than three top spots simultaneously."

"Spell theory?" I inquired. Again, something else not in _Hogwarts History_.

"Kind of a research course of a sort…" Anthony picked up. "Probably a lecture once a week, it was mainly individual study with students building their own spells and altering known spells to be presented at an international research symposium where the spell could be registered and patented in various countries if good enough. The class was kept from the knowledge of the general populous. Students had to be selected for the course based on OWLs and an extensive background check, I believe. If one participated in the course, they were almost an automatic shoo-in for any ministry job they wanted under the direction of the Department of Mysteries."

"Why was it stopped and never mentioned again?" I asked slightly peeved. With Voldemort back, this may be a useful skill to know.

"Spell theorists are usually researchers first. But if they wanted to be, they could be truly dangerous people. I don't know all the specifics, but they essentially are taught the ability to tap into raw magic and will it to their means in some way. Anyways," he continued looking somewhat disgusted, "an idiot team comprised of a Slytherin and a Hufflepuff decided it would be cool to attempt to make a legal version of an Unforgivable and had the nerve to try to test it on an unwilling student. To make a long story short, word about the new spell and the course slipped out. Fudge had not to long been elected as minister for the first time and he received a lot of angry letters about the course, which he had no knowledge of himself. You can guess what happened. Despite Dumbledore and other academics trying to get him to reconsider for the sake of forward movement for our society, it is one of the few things that he refused to budge on. Great Britain is now the only major Wizarding nation that is not producing any spell theorists. Not condoning what the gits did, but we are probably hurting ourselves more with our ignorance than protecting ourselves from Death Eaters and other dark wizards by way of censorship."

Great. Something else to be disappointed with the ministry in. "Getting back to Alex."

Luna nodded. "He continued to excel in these subjects and it was clear to everyone by the middle of sixth year who was going to graduate as valedictorian. But when he came back for seventh year, he seemed changed or preoccupied. In addition to declining the head boy position, his grades also started slipping to a more average level. My aunt cornered him one evening trying to figure out what was going on. He essentially told her to mind her business in a pleasant way and don't make her graduation speech too long winded."

"He started holding back." I said stating the obvious. Luna nodded in response. "The only thing he seemed invested in with the same intensity was his spell theory project, but my aunt never found out what it was because he chose not to present it at the last minute. What notes she did see on his project signified some sought of protection spell. Despite all his attempts to not draw attention to himself, eyes were on him when he was named salutatorian regardless of his drop in grades for his seventh year. But that's not what makes him the ghost. He disappeared two days before graduation never to be seen again. The ministry tried to get in contact with his family and no family members could be found. The address they had in muggle London was completely empty. It was almost as if he never existed. There were a few rumors that he left early to become an Unspeakable and some that he was snatched in the night and killed by some muggle-born hating wizard. Then some said he went back to America to live as a muggle again. No one knows and despite the headline quality mystery that it is, it disappeared far too quickly from the pages of the _Daily Prophet_ and from the minds of most of the student body at Hogwarts."

Whoa. That was indeed interesting and it did feel good to know that a muggle-born excelled so highly that he became Ravenclaw's source of inspiration despite the mystery that surrounds him. And who else were chosen to be spell theorists and what are they doing now? Would I had been chosen to be one? Would Malfoy? I know he would have the OWLs scores, but would he pass the background check? Feeling that I had ingested enough new information for the day that I didn't have the ability to formulate questions, I excused myself from the compartment returning to my own where I drifted off to sleep possibly wondering what became of Alex Mallioux.

* * *

Hours later, I found myself entering the Great Hall taking in the enchanted ceiling. It never gets old. Taking our familiar spots at the Gryffindor table, I hear Ron talking to Harry and Harry replying to him in one word answers. When is Ron going to get the clue that he doesn't feel like talking now? Taking Harry's silence as a lack of interest in the topic, Ron brings up an interesting observation on his part and pulling me out of my own ponderings. "Have you noticed we didn't get our yearly Malfoy train visit?"

My head shoots up and sure enough, there's no sign of Malfoy at the Slytherin table. Just his empty spot that no one has dared to sit in. It still baffled me how much pull Malfoy had in the house. It was like he reigned supreme despite the fact that he wasn't a seventh year. They had some system, but I just wasn't sure how it worked. Maybe it had to with his father's Death Eater status, but that was debunked now due to him being imprisoned so what would happen when he got here this year?

Harry gave Ron a light chuckle. "Disappointed Ron?" Ron looked at Harry like he had grown another head. But before he could respond, the sorting began.

Sorting ended with an almost equal number of first years going to each house. Professor Dumbledore gave his usual announcements and the feast began. Still, no sign of Malfoy and Crabb and Goyle looked a little uneasy. Sometimes I would catch Snape staring between the clock, the Slytherin table, and the doors to the Great Hall. Very few students were ever this late. It's Malfoy, who knows? It could be a plethora of reasons, so I started to dig into my food.

About halfway through the meal, I looked up and noticed a black eagle owl flying towards Dumbledore with a black envelop. After reading the contents, he removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes like he had the worst headache ever. This cannot be good. Black envelops usually meant death. Slipping the envelope in his pocket, he spared a quick glance at Snape and the Slytherin table. Dumbledore just pushed his plate back and sat there like he was trying to gather his thoughts. After about five minutes, he stood and raised his had asking for silence. While the chatter of the hall quieted down, I sat there hoping that Dumbledore wasn't going to say what I thought he was. I may not have cared much for him, but I surely didn't wish him dead. Just when Dumbledore was about to speak, a flock of owls came pouring into the hall dropping newspapers to their respected subscribers. _Daily Prophet_ Owls. Oh no. They don't deliver this late unless it is breaking news. In waiting for my own copy to reach me, I felt my fears confirmed from the painful wail that came from the Slytherin table. Looking over, I saw one Millicent Burstrode comforting a shaking Pansy Parkinson.

Steeling myself, I unwrapped the parchment that I knew was going to again remind us of the pervasiveness of death. Couldn't the fates see that we had gotten the lesson already that death held no preference in age or status? Two times already. And here was lesson three in bold letters on the front page…

_**The End of Another Legacy:**_

_Malfoy Heir Found Dead!_

_By Rita Skeeter_

_September 1st usually marks the return of students back to Hogwarts, but this year it will also mark the end of the line for another one of England's oldest Wizarding Pureblood families. Draco Aidan Malfoy (age 16), sole heir and acting head of the Malfoy Family, was discovered this morning on the edge of the family grounds by his mother and appeared to be the victim of the Killing Curse. He survived by his father, Lucius O. Malfoy who is currently incarcerated for his involvement in the Death Eater attack at the Department of Mysteries, and his mother, Narcissa Black-Malfoy, one of the few remaining members of the ancient Black Family who lost their head Sirius Black, wrongfully imprisoned Azkaban Escapee, in the events at the Department of Mysteries... _

As I heard Dumbledore in the background publicly giving condolences and words of comfort to the student body, I skimmed the rest of article as it went on describing the wails of Mrs. Malfoy that were heard in the village below and Draco's accomplishments. There were also accompanying articles with interesting titles like _Narcissa Black-Malfoy: Woman Thou Art Lost_, _The Endangered Species of Pureblood Legacy: First Black, then Malfoy. Who's next? Potter?…Longbottom?, _and_ The Pros and Cons of Female Family Heads: It's not blasphemy for a woman to lead you know._

But the thing that stood out the most to me was the picture of Draco on the front page. I must say I was surprised in more ways than one. The picture was a black and white moving photo rather than the color moving pictures that usually make up wizarding photos. I don't believe he knew the camera was on him because he lacked all the things that publicly make Draco Malfoy Draco Malfoy. He appeared to be leaning on a rail and staring off into the horizon with his platinum blond locks blowing free in the wind. He had a pensive look on his face and would occasionally run his fingers through his windswept hair. As much as it pained me to say it, he looked unbelievably gorgeous and would not have thought him to be the same snarling sneering excuse for a human being that I had been encountering for over five years. This young man would have been right at home in a Calvin Klein ad and oozed things that I thought would be foreign to him other than sex. It's a shame that he has to be dead in order for us to see this. As I pulled my eyes away from the photo, I found almost everyone's eyes on the Slytherin table.

* * *

Blaise Zabini cursed inwardly when he realized he had run his hand through his cornrows. Not only could the movement be counted as a nervous gesture of a sort, it also made the roots frizzy and not look as good. He knew it was almost time to make his move. _The things you do for friends and the weak_.

He remembered the cryptic letter exchange with Drake asking him in the event he was not at school by feast to assume dominance over the house. _What in the hell are you up to Draco?_ He knew it would be not hard for him and to some, it would be almost expected. Even though Blaise rarely used it, he had almost as much pull as Draco in Slytherin, but for fairly different reasons and it made for some interesting times during first year when everyone was trying to establish their place.

When the two first met, Draco was given the task by his father of trying to place himself as house leader of their year via intimidation and other means to get others to submit to him. Blaise however, had no interest in being the alpha of Slytherin, but seemed to attract persons to him naturally. Draco naturally saw him as competition and their relations for over half of the first year were very strained with Draco trying to get the upper hand and making Blaise publicly submit to him. Blaise could have cared less with the exception of one rule: Zabini's submit to no one. With Draco getting more desperate and Blaise refusing to back down, it lead to blows one night of the magical and physical type almost getting them caught by Filch. Hiding in an empty classroom in the wee hours of the night, the two started to develop an understanding that built into a strong friendship even though it goes unknown to the rest of Slytherin students to this day. Draco stopped harassing Blaise in public and gained dominance over Slytherin even though Blaise never submitted.

To the student populous, Blaise and Draco barely speak to each other. But the owls and paintings in the castle know better. Blaise is the only person who know Draco's true views on Voldemort and the only person in Slytherin who doesn't crouch in fear of a Malfoy's wrath.

The Zabini's are a powerful and respected neutral wizarding family that finds their roots in the lands of what is now Kenya. Appearing to be stringent neutrals, most of the wizarding world is out with the jury despite Xavier Zabini holding the third highest spot on Wizengamot . They turn off the light side with their use of various forms of magic including dark magic operating under the theory that dark and light should be based on the intent of the user rather than the spell type. Voldemort tried to recruit them during his first rising by force; his team of followers who went on that mission was never the same again.However, unknown to the rest of the wizarding world, the Zabini's views are more on the light side with the exception of magical use and classification. Within the family code, the first code stated is that no one is to be deemed inferior or discriminated against on the basis of blood, ethnicity, magical strength or any entity the person holds no control over. This rule being the result of when Emil Zabini decided to take a trip around the world before assuming his place as head in 1752. His trip to the America proved more dangerous than he expected. If he hadn't of been magical, he would have been captured and enslaved under the belief that all blacks are slaves and all slaves are blacks. It was an eye opening experience that changed the Zabini Family.

Blaise's beliefs and the public position of his family make for an interesting situation if he were to assume dominance Slytherin house. While pleading for him to do this, Draco informed him that there were others who probably felt the same way, but believed they had no protections. _I guess my presence will shake things up a bit. If nothing else I'll be a neutral ear and I manage to get along with everyone. _The other option was Nott who was sickly loyal to the Dark Lord and had a nasty sadistic streak. _That's a no go._

Pulling himself back to the task at hand, he noticed that all eyes were on the Slytherin table. _Show Time_ With that, he stood up drawing all attention to himself and walked towards Pansy, Slytherin alpha female, thankful they were sitting on the same side of the table otherwise this would be more awkward. There is more than one way to assume dominance so he chose to take on the role of a protector since she probably was going to have people staring at her like crazy all day like she was a widow despite the fact that she and Draco weren't dating. _Who better than to protect than the alpha female? Bold move, but it makes the statement loud and clear._ He asked her was she okay and did she want to go and see Madame Pomfrey.

"No. I just need some air." She replied removing herself from the Millicent's arms.

"I'll accompany you." He helped her up from the table and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. As he started walking towards the doors, he felt all the eyes on the back of him and knew it was time to chinch it. He paused and turned around scanning all of the Great Hall starting at the head table. As he moved on to the house tables, he put on an ice glare that clearly said, "If you want your eyes, I advice you to direct them somewhere else." He scanned the other house tables until at least a few people decided to look away. He spent the most of his gaze at the Slytherin making sure that at least 3/4ths of them looked away especially Nott. After a few seconds that felt like many minutes, Blaise was satisfied to see Nott and other upper years look away. _Mission Accomplished_. Pansy looked up at him wondering why he stopped and was about to ask when he stopped her. "I just thought I had forgotten something."

As they walked to the doors, he couldn't help but wonder what was he getting himself into, which made him wonder what Draco was into and was he okay. _Keep safe partner._


	6. Chapter 6: Dirty Secret

**Chapter Six:** Dirty Business & Dirty Secrets

Before I knew it, my time in St. Louis was over and I found myself in another plane, in another place, and in another climate. Dreading the plane ride, I was surprised to find that this one was relatively quick in comparison to the one across the pond. Following Alex out of the air terminal, I looked around me noticing how much different the state of New Mexico looked from St. Louis.

After getting into a massive black automobile that Alex called a Hummer, we rode in relative silence for about an hour until we reached the city of Santa Fe or that is what sign read at least. It looked like it could be a nice city even though it did not appear to be as large as St. Louis. My comparative thoughts were interrupted by Alex.

"Home sweet home." And indeed it would be my home for the next two years according to what my mum told me before I left. I automatically knew not to expect anything like the manor, but other than that I had no idea what to expect. The house blended well with the other homes on the street with the clay looking substance being the outer look of choice. It lacked the sometimes ostentatious style of the manor, but it was more than enough room for two blokes to live in.

Just as I was about to compliment Alex on his home, I felt a sense of great unease enter me and I wanted nothing more than to get as far away from the area as much as possible. To add injury to insult, it seemed the closer we got, the uneasiness increased until it was unadulterated fear and terror almost making me feel like a caged animal. "Alex, get me out here. Something is not right."

Alex turned and looked at me with those blues assessing me until something clicked. He then stopped the vehicle and pulled out a pocketknife. That was the last thing I needed to see with all that irrational fear and terror running through me. Almost frozen in fear, I watched the pocketknife as it pricked the tip of his index finger yielding a generous drop of blood. He then grabbed my hand before I even had the chance to jerk away and smeared said blood on the back of my hand. The terror and unease immediately ceased. _Wards. _"Sorry, I forgot about that specific ward." Alex stated as he continued to drive towards the house.

"How the Hell can you forget about your wards? And what was that anyway?" I asked resisting the urge to clean the blood off my hand now that the terror had abated.

Alex glanced over at me as he finally pulled up to the front of the house. "Pardon me. I don't have that many wizards over and most of the wards are harmless to non magical persons. Anyways, you've heard of muggle repelling wards right?" I nodded in response. "Well, no one said it couldn't be made to work in the opposite direction."

"Are you telling me that you have what is essentially a wizard repelling ward?"

"No, it's just a ward to repel blonde bastards who ask too many questions." He responded turning to me with a smirk.

"Well, it must not work very well since it forgot about you. But really, what use do you have for this type of ward and how come it extends out so far? Other houses are within this ward."

"I know. This is the only one that extends out this far. If the wizard by some chance gets his wits about him and realizes it's a ward, he or she won't know which house or which area to start in on to remove it. The presence of wards themselves can attract attention even if they are used as a means of protection. This ward keeps people from noticing the more powerful wards surrounding my house. In addition, this would give me time by causing some confusion. We can continue this inside." He answered getting out of the automobile.

Getting into the house, I took a quick glance around knowing I would have more than enough time to look around later. Since I was living here, I needed to know about the wards. "But why the anti-wizard ward?"

Glancing at me as he sat what few bags he had down by the stairs, he said "Like I said, I really don't interact with wizards much. Most of the people that know me, know me as having little to no magical potential hence the reason I couldn't do magic."

Taking one slow blink trying to process the implications of his statement, I restated "So you are saying that you have been posing as a muggle?"

"No. I'm saying that for all intents and purposes three fourths of a year, I am magicless."

"What? How?" The response I got was a shrug as he turned to go up the stairs.

"How else? Potions. Come up stairs so you can pick out a room. After you get settled, we can go back to show and tell."

* * *

As we climbed the steps, I couldn't help but wonder what I hell I was doing. It's been almost ten years. It's been damn near ten years since I left England and since I left Wizarding society behind, well at least the British one. Sometimes I wondered was I crazy as Hell for doing this. My shit was _relatively_ together now and no one could trace me if their life depended on it, magical or mundane. However, there was no way in Hell I could ever deny Cissa. She was there when no one else was. And Drake himself, I could still remember the small shadow that used to follow me during those summers. That shadow almost matches my height now and has encountered some unpleasant things. But I know for the most part, he's still clean and part of me wants him to stay that way no matter how naïve that wish may be. _A clean Malfoy. An innocent Malfoy._ It almost sounds like a fuckin' oxymoron. From the history I know about the family, a clean Malfoy is essentially a dead Malfoy. And that I of all people should know.

God. I have never been more off my game than I have been these past two weeks riding the line between keeping as much information as possible away from Anita and her "friends" yet not scaring the piss out of Draco since he doesn't know much about me. Hell for all I know, they may think I'm bipolar now along with sociopathic, especially after that conversation with Jean Claude at the circus. Even worse, I don't want to think about the questions circulating in Drake's head now. These are big questions that I'd been putting off for the past two weeks and I know he hasn't forgotten them. The most important question of course is my occupations. I had no issues telling him about Ted. Ted is legal and is doing what is essentially a public service. Death however, was not so easy. It could be compared to Abraxas's activities, but I got paid and truly didn't care one way or another about the target. Abe and Lucy did it for free and took great pleasure. Hell, who am I kidding? I live for the rush, but my targets are never defenseless.

Anyways, I knew one thing. No matter how I did it, Drake was going to have to learn about Death since hanging out with me could potentially get him killed just as quickly as being in the vicinity of Mr. Riddle or what was left of him. There was just no way to get around it. He will know almost everything there is to be known about me, so an Occumency refresher isn't an option; it's a mandate.

* * *

After having Drake choose a room, I gave him some time to settle in and explore even though the time was more for me. Two and a half hours later, I found myself sitting in the sitting room no more ready than I was a week ago. Looking at my long cold coffee, I decided I was going to be out of character and just say fuck it. Put it out there and deal with what comes. I was in no mood for cloak and daggers tonight.

Just when I was about to call Drake, I realized that I hadn't taken the unbinding potion yet and that was something I really didn't want to do in front of him. Reaching into the small expanded pocket attached to my belt, I pulled out a 2.5ml bottle that could be mistaken for eye drops if the liquid wasn't purple. Looking at it, I wondered why I still carried it with me at all times. It wasn't like I was ever going to use it on a job. For about five minutes after taking it, the person is high off of their own pent up power and that is something I can not afford in my line of work. That would be a dumb ass way to go out. Big bad infamous Death died because he was essentially stoned off his ass and staggered into a line of bullets coming his way. Anita would probably raise me just to laugh in my face. Pushing those thoughts aside, I knocked back the potion and in seconds I was flooded in power and intoxication. Everything was foggy to me and the only sensory stimulation I could make out was the wards of the house responding to me and acknowledging me rather than just that tingling sensation I encountered when bound. After a few minutes, I lifted my head out of my hands and waited for everything to level out. Once sure I was in relative control of my faculties, I went ahead and retrieved the wand strapped to my inner calf. Sometimes I fleetingly wondered how much energy I released when I took the unbinding potion, but now I knew I would definitely have to look into it when Drake came down the stairs with a perplexed look on his face. "What was that?"

I was halfway tempted to ask 'What was what?' when I realize that he had almost as information to give to me as I had to give to him. I decided to throw him a bone. "Me unbinding."

With those words, Drake's eyes raked over me until they rested on the empty bottle and the wand sitting on the coffee table beside me. He actually stared at the wand longer than usual. His eyes came back to mine. "_That_ was you. I thought it was the wards."

I gestured to the seat on the opposite side of the coffee table. "The wards at one point did respond to me. I wouldn't think you would have noticed."

He looked at me straight on. "I noticed. It was like encountering waves on a beach." I raised my eyebrow at that. "The first one was like someone dumped gallons of water on me. A wild splash. Unrestricted. Had force, but for the most part went through me. The second one was larger and more uniformed. It actually seeped through me, inspected me, and continued on almost as if it found me lacking. I take it found what it was looking for."

"We wouldn't be sitting here otherwise." I responded allowing a smirk to form. Let's just say that it would not have been pretty had magical energy been released and there was no connection found to me via magic or blood.

"And you were going to tell me this when? I didn't know whether or not the house shielded underage magic like the manor. That was the only thing that stopped me casting any spells." He said looking at me like I was a few screws short.

"I'll add you in first thing tomorrow and I want you to get another wand before you use any magic. For your own information, you have full access over here with you being sixteen." Seeing the grin that he was fighting to hide, I had to rain on his parade. "You're still not an adult, but you do have the full ability to use magic."

"What is the legal age over here?"

"Eighteen, which is the same as the mundanes."

Draco frowned. "Mundane?"

"For some reason, I never liked the word 'muggle' and mundane is the common expression that they use over here." There was something about the word that rubbed me the way. There could be only so much coincidence that they would pick a word that is almost synonymous with fool or idiot in the dictionary. Not saying that mundane was a shining compliment either, but I would rather be boring than a fool. Tired of talking already, I felt it was time to dig into some of the meaty questions like this Lord Malfoy shit. "Draco. What's this garbage about me being Lord Malfoy?"

The little bastard looked at me with a smirk before digging into his pockets. "My, aren't we excited?" He set a trunk that was the size of a pack of playing cards in the middle of the floor and looked at me. "Will you do the honors?" I picked up the wand and mumbled the engorgement spell until the trunk was back to its original size. Draco then searched through the trunk for a few minutes until he found what he was looking for. He came out with two pieces of parchment and a small wooden box. I knew what was in that box and I did not want it.

Unrolling the first parchment, Draco began. "When I first found out you were alive, it was more than obvious due to me being underage and Lucius getting himself locked up that it would go to you as a proxy until the issues with father and I were resolved." He glanced over the parchment which turned out to be long as hell, before he handed it to me with a smile. "However, imagine my surprise when mother and I looked at the family tree and went through some family documents and bylaws only to find out that Lucius had been acting in proxy and was still acting in proxy until this year for you."

I glanced through the family tree and saw a living breathing nightmare. There in bold letters under my father's name and a red 'unknown' in the space representing my mother was my name with Lord in front of it. _Oh shit._ I heard Drake continue on in the background. "With Uncle Gabriel being the first borne, he was the heir. Even though he never became Lord, he was first in line and you took that place as his son when he died. Technically, you have been Lord since 1987. Lucius was technically a proxy after Grandfather's death in 1983. With your presence, Lucius never has been Lord Malfoy and never will." I could almost hear the _'and neither will I'_ behind that sentence.

"Are you sure you looked at all of this correctly?" God, how weak did that sound? "I would have sworn that Abraxas would have disowned me as soon as he knew my existence. He can't have a filthy half-blood fuckin' up his illustrious line. There has to be a clause in there somewhere. There is no way in hell he would allow a half-blood to become family head." I noticed Draco looking at me a little wary. I hoped I hadn't slipped too much, but I knew I had. For all that I've done and all that I've seen, I have excellent control over myself and emotions…except when it comes to Abraxas Malfoy. I reigned myself in since Draco didn't know dear Grandfather like I did and looked at him with dead eyes for an explanation.

Draco looked pensive. Did he not know? "_Half-blood_?" There was a slow blink and then he shook himself out of it. "Since you were born in America, most of the evidence of your existence remains in America. The only magical record of your existence in Britain would probably be in Gringotts. As you know, the Malfoys do not have an account manager due to a lack of trust in the creatures. Essentially, he would have had to acknowledge your existence in order to get you disowned." And that would defeat his purpose. Instead of private shame, it would have been public shame and a reduction of power for him. So there was an alternative reason for silently planning to get rid of me other than just great dislike and prejudice.

Draco passed me the wooden box and we lapsed into silence. Opening it up, I was not surprised when I was greeted with the Malfoy family ring in all of its perverse glory. For all I know, this ring might not even accept me. I did not sign up for this. Closing the box, I studied Draco. All of this affected him as much as it did me. From what I heard by way of my exchanges with Cissa, this is what Lucius had been grooming him for every since I had left. The alienation. The pressure. All for nothing. I could even remember him hiding so he wouldn't have to get to some of his lessons. As I watched him stare into my pseudo fireplace, I actually wondered how he felt about all of this. But it wasn't my business. I know if it was me, I sure as hell wouldn't be in a talkative mood. I also wasn't going to even try to read him at this point because I didn't know who I was looking at times.

However, all of that introspection would be for nothing because I had absolutely no interest in the position. Closing the box, I handed it back to Drake. "When peace comes back to England, this is yours. I will relinquish any rights." He made a move to protest, but I stopped him. "I don't want this. This is not pity Draco. With the exception of you and Cissa, I want nothing to do with the family let alone running it. This belongs to you."

From there, I moved the topic into what has been going on in England. Draco gave me the rundown of what's been happening the last few years from his point of view. When Draco described how Voldemort looked, I didn't know whether I wanted to laugh or cringe. It was no use thinking about the 'could haves' and 'should haves'. It didn't happen and that is all that matters. And Jesus, what he told me about the ministry made me wanted to deny my dual citizenship. "He had to show up in the middle of the Department of Mysteries in order for them to believe Potter. The dead kid he brought back with him didn't scream any signs? Were they all smoking from the same pipe when they elected Fudge?"

Drake looked pensive. "Speaking of government, how is it set up here?"

"It's set up like the mundane one with three branches: legislative, judicial, and executive. Instead of a minister, we have a president and he or she is elected on a staggered half term of the mundane president."

"In English please." That was the dry reply I received.

"A presidential term is four years for both presidents. If a mundane president is elected in 1996, the elections for the Wizarding president will be held in 1998 to ensure some stability in the country."

"How is the relationship between the two governments?" I had to smile at this. Time for another little surprise.

"It's a good relationship. It's so good in fact that the Wizarding government is thinking of coming out."

His head snapped to me with shocked spread all across his features. Black beckons. "What?! The International Confederation will never let them get away with it!"

"That Statue of Secrecy was drafted by the Confederation in 1427. That is over 200 years before the creation of the United States. Think Slytherin Drake. They acted in accordance with it voluntarily, but they never formally signed it because they were not formally acknowledged as a country until 1905. The Wizarding government here has been watching the interaction between the mundanes, vamps, and lycanthropes for almost twenty years. If mundanes can accept and acknowledge the vamps, we look rather boring and harmless in comparison. " I said before summoning two bottles of water and cursing my laziness.

Drake nodded in response. "Why weren't the states acknowledged until 1905? Didn't they start coming over the late16th century?"

I handed him a bottle. "Think about it. Despite its lip service, the confederation had and still has just as many old wealthy purebloods representing their countries. What is going to be their reaction to a barely two centuries old country started by and mostly populated by mundane born wizards, disgraced purebloods, and Wizarding victims of primogeniture?" I heard silence in response. "Exactly."

We lapsed into silence again and found ourselves staring into the pseudo fireplace. It's almost unnecessary for a fireplace in this climate, but I did like the atmosphere it bought. There was no floo connection and there would never be any floo connection in a home of mine unless the room was damn near isolated from the rest of the house. Maybe it's my work talking again, but it's simply stupidity on the both the travelers part and the home owners part. I was in the middle of thinking about how many hexes and bullets a person could find themselves encountering when stepping out of a floo when jarred me with a question.

"Why did you leave?" Of all questions to ask, why did he have to ask this one? But I did say I was going to be somewhat honest. I took a drink of water beginning to wish I had something slightly stronger.

"England was never my home Drake and I didn't like how things went over there." That was the truth. I turned to Drake and saw a look on his face that clearly said 'And…'

"Let's just say that Voldemort was going to ask something of me that I would not give and I did not wish for Lucius or any of you to be placed in the middle. So I left." I finished glancing down at my hands. _My hands._

"What was he going to ask of you? There are very few things that are worse then what he asked of me." _You have no idea kid._ There were plenty of things I was ready to disclose, but this wasn't one of them.

"What was with the panic attack at the circus?" I was not sitting in touching distance of Draco, but I could almost feel him stiffen at my words.

"_Touché."_ His tone was bordering on glacial.

"We can drop it if you'd like, but you might want to take care of that. Reactions like that will put you at risk." Both physically and mentally. Taking a quick glance over at him, he was giving my fireplace a look that would definitely had his class mates moving more than a few spaces away. I would give it an eight on my scale. Deciding to bite the bullet, I asked. "Was that the first time you had one those?"

"One of what?" Okay. He wanted to go quid pro quo.

"An orgasm. No, a panic attack." I said shaking my head. Something had to be done about it or it would grow bigger and uglier. At the risk of sounding like some pop psych quack, he needed to either talk about it or focus it to something else.

We lapsed into another silence with my offer to talk hanging out there. I sat there like I had all the time in the world and for the most part, I did. Every now and then, I would see him glancing over at me. He was more than likely weighing me to see if I could be trusted and probably trying to guess my reactions. Unbeknownst to him however, any feelings of embarrassment with me are wasted due pensive worthy memories of him running through the manor naked as the day he was born with a house elf in hot pursuit of the toddler. I had to bite back a smile at the memory of Lucius and his business partners' faces. Just as I was pulling myself away from those amusing thoughts, Draco finally answered.

"No, I had not. I was fine until that… she started speaking Parseltongue and it just came out of nowhere." He said looking at his hands just like any sixteen year old kid rather than that 'something more' that he had to portray most of his life. I actually thought he was about to clam back up when he decided to keep talking. "I just felt like I was suffocating. I felt like I was never going to escape, that the family as a whole was never going to escape. Seeing that lamia just made me think that no matter how far I go, no matter how far I run, I will never escape this madness. Hell, the madness is damned near tied with our name. Sooner or later, I'm going to have to face it down one way or another."

He then broke out in a laugh that sounded anything but pleasant before deciding to walk over to the window. "Face it down and do what exactly? What exactly can I do? I have little to no allies. Half of the population over there hates the family due to loyalties of father and grandfather. The other half will hate the family for my defection from those loyalties. Either way, the moment we emerge people are going to want us to fall and fall hard. I can't even protect my own mother. She's taken a stand in protecting me. Bloody hell, you are taking a stand in protecting me, almost a grown man. I have no idea how much I am disrupting your life with this. I have no idea where my mother is at, what she is doing, or even if she is safe for that matter. Almost everyone I care about is standing for me except for myself and I feel sickened and weak because of it."

He stopped and looked at me warily with a smile that looked more like a grimace. "Sorry. I bet I sound like a winy ponce, don't I?" I guess he had said too much on his part. It usually goes that way when to listener remains silent. I didn't know what he was thinking, but I wasn't going to judge him. I couldn't judge him even if I had wanted.

Thinking about some of the more angst filled TV shows, I figured that this would be the point where I was supposed to go over to him and say 'There, there or everything would be alright in the end.' No way. I've almost lost my breath too many times to use it on empty words. "No, you sound like someone who feels helpless. You sound like someone haunted by the past and by things you have no control over so much that they dread the future. You also sound like someone who is a few breathes away from calling yourself a coward and I can assure you that considering the situation, you are anything but. There is a thin line between bravery and stupidity." This was all rubbing too close to home, but I knew he needed to hear it. "How can you stand when you don't know what you stand for or what you want? How can you stand when you lack the skills to keep standing?"

Again I received silence. I turned to Drake and saw him in a stance by the window that took me back almost twenty years. Giving into the need for something stronger, I went to the bar and pulled the fire whiskey. "Your mother will be fine; she's probably burying you as we speak. We should hear from her in about a week. Other than avoiding the Dark Tosser, did Cissa give you any other reasons for coming over here?"

I heard a snort before he responded. "She said welcome any additional training and to embrace life." I handed him a tumbler that he knocked back. I watched him with faint amusement fight the grimace as the liquor burned his throat.

"How do feel about those requests?"

"What else do I have to do here?" I looked into his eyes and found something akin to cold determination. "A definite yes to training though. I can not be a sitting duck and if I go down, I will not make it easy for the bastards." And neither will I.

"And the embracing life? Draco Malfoy is dead. You, Mr. Willis, can do anything you please." I stated still swirling my own fire whiskey in the tumbler. I knew how revenge and fear could consume and had long put both to rest or at least thought I did. He needs to explore in order to find where he stands. Otherwise, he could become… unpleasant.

"Duly noted." Draco responded with a nod before he got a puzzled look on his face. "Getting back to the training, how do you go about finding good duelers over here?"

The British sentiment sprouts its head. "Dueling isn't everything, Draco. What can you do without your wand?" More silence. "Exactly. A rule of thumb Drake, you shouldn't just look at just spells. You may very well encounter some things that are resistant to our type of magic."

He looked at me with both curiosity and wariness. Smart kid. "And you know this how? Wait, you did say you were a bounty hunter of some sort. Are they like aurors?" _Gods no!_ "What exactly do you do and can it help with my training?"

I couldn't get a better opening than that. I knocked my own glass of fire whiskey back and actually smiled, which Drake returned cautiously. _Here comes nothing. _"I never thought you'd ask."


	7. Chapter 7: Black Surprises

**Chapter Seven**: Black Surprises

**Harry**

"Happy Bloody Christmas." I couldn't help but murmur to myself. Can you hear the sarcasm in it? As you can probably guess, I was not in the best of moods. But honestly, could you blame me? Just two days before Christmas, I find myself sitting in a room at the Gringotts Estates and Will Department with very little to be happy and thankful for, short of my life.

Six months after Sirius's death and his will is now finally being read. Thank you Goblin Nation for your fast, reliable, and sensitive service. Just open the wounds back up why don't you. Hey. Has anyone got any salt they would like to add to this train wreck that happens to be my life? You know what, let's take that back. Let's not tempt fate.

Remus's enhanced hearing must had heard my murmurings since he responded with a sad smile. I had been seeing a lot of that smile lately, mainly in regards to my self. It was either that waning smile or a worried frown. I guess he hadn't quite gotten used to my new outlook on life. Hopefully, he'll get over it. It is a known fact that time and war changes people and I'm no exception.

Well actually, if you want to get technical, it's not as much of a change as more of a reawakening. Entering the Wizarding World and seeing these people who knew and respected my parents while being relatively kind to me caused me to break some of my own rules. Rules that I knew worked and had worked for me for eleven years. And what did I break them for? Acceptance. Acceptance that I would get from people who had known my parents. _My parents. _Acceptance and continued kindness from some of the first few people who showed me kindness. I have learned plenty of lessons since being here, but one of the hardest to learn and the one that hurts the most is that acceptance is fleeting and isn't worth shit if it's not unconditional. You will never be able to please everyone. Then there is also the realization of the fact that I may never gain unconditional acceptance, which makes me angrier than I want to admit. In this never-ending quest for acceptance, I suppressed parts of myself. I trusted them and let myself be an open book. I allowed myself to care too much and where did it all lead me?

I am a survivor and always have been. I grew up with the Dursley's. I had to sneak. I had to steal. I had to manipulate and talk my way out of things. I had to plot. I had to be two steps ahead. I had to show little or no reaction to their actions. Doing anything else would just let them know what hurt the most and edge them on. As I said, I am a survivor and the hat knew it too. But in the quest of acceptance and wanting to be as dissimilar to Voldemort as possible…well I guess we shall say that the rest is history even though I could personally give a hoot now about any specific Hogwart's house. You have good people and assholes in every single one.

For example, Slytherin appeared to be going through a lot of changes after Malfoy's shocking death. They tried to keep it under wraps, but their first years hadn't yet learned how to keep their mouths shut. It appears there was some back and forth between Zabini and Nott for about the first two months of term before Zabini emerged victorious and Nott ended up in Madame Pomfrey's care for a week. As for Slytherin under the Zabini reign, there was nothing negative I could say about it. Matter of fact, some of the people seemed lighter or freer. There wasn't as much bullying, but if you decided to cross them, all bets were off. As for Zabini himself, he didn't strut down the hall or show that he was the house leader in any visible way. He was quiet, cordial, and acknowledged your existence. If he saw me in the halls, he would give me a curt nod and I usually returned the favor. That's more than I can say for Malfoy. However, his relationship with Snape took a nosedive, probably due to him having to keep up appearances for Death Muncher sympathizers. I don't know who gets insulted more now, him or me. But Zabini takes the derisive comments and detentions with indifference and poise, more than I can say for myself at times. However, I'm beginning to rein it in due to fact that it is just not productive. There is no incentive at all in letting people know what makes you tick no matter how good it may feel at the time to put them in their place.

Leaving the Dursley's, I let myself become an open book with hopes of coming into the world with a clean slate; that the magical world would be fundamentally different in this regard. That was a major mistake considering so much of this world is bogged down and continues to be bogged down with the past, even more so than the muggle world. And you can probably guess how good that turned out since I knew next to nothing about my past with the exception of what someone told me out of the kindness or malice of their hearts. Then to add injury to insult I let myself get dragged into this reverence of the past trying to unwittingly conform to the ways of parents who I know next to nothing about. It is almost sickening to look back on it now. All someone had to say was 'your parents would… Lily believed…James would…' and they had me whether it was insult or compliment. My desperation was damned near out there for the world to see and damned if some of them didn't use it. Dumbledore is a fucking professional in his exploitation of my ignorance even if that wasn't his intent.

Let's not get me started on Dumbledore. I can barely talk about him out loud without going into expletives. Sixteen years on this Earth. Five years in his immediate presence at Hogwarts and it took a Ministry invasion for him to finally reveal that there was a prophecy hanging over my head. His explanation; he wanted me to have a normal childhood. Bullshit, the Dursley's never constituted a normal childhood and my life has been at risk almost all five of the years I've been at Hogwarts. Thinking on it now, I technically can't trust the blood ward on Privet Drive as far as I could throw considering that Voldemort has my blood. All this time wasted; I could have been training to fight. The Horcruxes could have been hunted for with less peril. We had the advantage of time and it was wasted.

Don't get me wrong, Dumbledore has done some great things and I still respect him, but too many decisions have been made and too many things have been omitted for things to go back the way they were, especially since most directly affected me. I know I can't blame the Department of Mysteries fiasco solely on him, but he did get the ball started with him holding everything too close to the vest. The other players in this group disaster are Sirius for his inability to take the duel seriously, and Bellatrix and Voldemort respectively for obvious reasons. Last but not least there was my part in this. I was a boy trying to play a man's game and lacked skill in more ways than one. I also would have worked harder if I would have been given a better explanation for needing to learn Occumency.

However, there is no use in wallowing and complaining about things that have been done already been. All you can do is learn from these lessons and move on. And that is what I have been doing with the first task being to take my head out of my arse and learn more about the world around me. Not just relying on information given to me, but really coming to my own conclusions from observation and research of my own.

And what I have I learned from all this careful observation and research?

I've learned that we are probably going to lose this damn war if things don't change and change as soon as possible. I've learned that there is more to this war than Dumbledore supporters, Ministry supporters, and Voldemort supporters. I've learned that there are some people that fundamentally disagree with certain ideologies of all three sides and therefore choose not to support any rather than just sheer cowardice as thought by the Order. I've learned that the reverence held for Dumbledore within the Order and the Wizarding World in general is quite dangerous and I do not desire any similar worship for myself in future despite knowing how easy it would be for me to gain. The groupthink within the Order scares me in regards to Dumbledore. Very few people are willing to disagree with him and if they do, the remainder of the group will wear that person down until he eventually falls in line. In the end, Dumbledore's word is practically law. I've also come to the realization that this is my fight much to the dismay of myself and the others should they find out about the prophecy.

Even if the prophecy is utter bullshit, Voldemort believes it and this is all that matters. Knowing that one day in the future I will have to face down Voldemort, I've come to the realization that I am in no ways ready and do not believe that I will ever be ready in time. Dumbledore says that love is my greatest strength. I appreciate the sentiment, but I don't believe Voldemort is going to spontaneously combust if I walk up to him and hug him. Nor would a stunner take him down. So I have taken it upon myself to start getting ready for this since no else seems to be in that much of a hurry to help me get ready. I have more than learned that knowledge is power and I am therefore taking advantage of Hogwarts library while I still have access to it. I also have taken up running and other physical exercises due to the fact that no matter how good you are with a wand, you will eventually have to dodge or run.

All in all, things will be changing around here. What happened at the Department of Mysteries will not happen again. Not on my watch. Sirius's death will not be in vain. My parent's death will not be in vain. I am going to try and do everything in my power to survive.

Before I had a chance to mentally go to places that I wished not to go, my attention was immediately peaked by the entrance of three Goblins, Tonks, and older woman. Tonk's hair was a dark brown today; I guess to go with the somberness of the occasion. However, with her hair in what I believe is her original color, I was able to see the likeness between her and the older woman leading me to come to the conclusion that woman was Andromeda Tonks nee Black. With a quick greeting to Remus and I, the two witches took their seats and waited for the reading to begin. Apparently, the goblins value their time and chose to go into the proceedings. However, before they could begin another goblin entered and I noticed the other three bowed their head slightly while he nodded in response. Of the three goblins that entered the room together, the older one of the group stepped forward.

"I would like to thank you all for coming to the will and last testament of one Sirius Black. My name is Sageblade and I am the head of Gringotts Will and Estates department. My other colleagues will be introduced momentarily. Before we proceed, let me just make sure that everyone is present." With that, he pulled out a parchment and started calling names.

"Remus Lupin."

"Present." With that, the Sageblade moved down the list and I noticed a frown appeared on his face. In response, he gestured to one of the younger goblins and received a letter in returned that was presented to Mrs. Tonks. "In light of recent events, Mrs. Malfoy communicated to us that she would be unable to attend today's proceedings and wished that anything bequeathed to the late Mr. Malfoy or her self be placed into your possession until a later date." If I were to say that my interest wasn't piqued, it would be a lie. Narcissa Malfoy disappeared three weeks after Malfoy's death and of course rumors ran rampant in the _Prophet_. Some believed that she left to mourn her son in private. Some believe that she may in hiding from the Ministry out of fear that they may try to take the Malfoy fortune due to her vulnerability and Lucius Malfoy imprisonment. Some may even believe she may be hiding from Voldemort since with no Malfoy males around; she can not be protected from _other tasks_ he may request of her. I can't blame her in that regard; the thought almost wants me to bring back up my lunch. Then there are some that believe that she may be dead and committed suicide in the wake of Draco Malfoy's death. Well, we at least know that she isn't dead and I couldn't help be crack a smile at the light that came into Mrs. Tonks eyes at the news. Sometimes it's hard to remember that they are sisters and they didn't appear close from the way Tonks tells it. Looking at Remus and Tonks, they seemed just as surprised as I was. Maybe we were wrong. Before I could think on it anymore, I heard my own name being called and I raised a hand in response.

"Nymphadora Tonks." Tonks nodded gruffly in response. Rolling up his parchment, Sageblade reached for a box sitting on a side table and placed it directly in front of us. Just as he was about to open the box, the late goblin stepped forward to tell Sageblade something in Gobbledydook. Sageblade nodded and stepped off to the side while the new goblin addressed us.

"For those of you who do not know who I am, my name Rangok and I am the President of Gringotts. Before we commence with the reading, I just wanted to let you know that this will not be a usual reading. We at Gringotts pride ourselves at watching over the gold of our customers with the same care that we watch over our own. We try to do everything in our power to make sure that our clients meet their financial goals whatever they may be. Due to Mr. Black's precarious situation, he was of course unable to attend to his financial duties as he desired. With a flexible staff and secure owl post, we were able work around this difficultly. However, due to the sensitive nature of wills and estates, let alone pureblood will and estates, we needed direct contact of some sort with Mr. Black seeing as the average Pureblood Head of Family checks on the family holdings and updates the will at least three times a year. As you can see, this created a grave problem for Mr. Black. Always trying to find better ways to service our customers, some members of our research and development team sought out to create a secure means for our ill and shut-in wizards and witches to alter their wills and estates as needed without having to step a foot in our branch. Mr. Black volunteered to be our first test subject. Without going into the magical details involved in such an undertaking, we were able to create a mental link using our magics, which more than hold up against Wizarding mind spells including Legilmency and the Imperious curse. In light of a new event, Mr. Black would be able to access and alter his final wishes in minutes." With those words, he opened the box and pulled a large orb out.

"When hearing of Mr. Black's death, we had to conduct our own investigation since there was no body and no therefore no certificate of death. We greatly apologize for the inconvenience. If you don't have any additional questions for myself or our two representatives from the research and development department, Sageblade will continue on with the reading." I looked around at the others to find them looking around also. Taking this as meaning there were no questions, Sageblade nodded to the two research goblins and they started to chant. Slowly over the course of five minutes the orb began to change from its transparency to a glowing green. At full glow, the goblins stopped their chanting and then we heard a familiar voice come from the orb.

"I, Sirius Black of sound mind and body—Don't say a word Moony.—declare this my last and final testament. In order to stay in this room, I only ask that you shed no tears. The last thing I want is someone blubbering over me. Chances are that I either went out doing something characteristically brave or stupid for someone I love or in proximity of a beautiful woman. Considering my circumstances so far, it's more than likely the former. But enough of that, lets get on with this and for the record, this is in no particular order. Moony, my brother in all but blood and the last Marauder left, I leave you 15,000 galleons and the cabin in Edinburgh. I only ask to look out for Harry. Hopefully, you'll be able to be there for him more than I was able to." I took a quick glance at Remus to see him sitting quite relaxed until I looked at his hands and saw them balled so tightly that they were white on the knuckles.

"Will do Padfoot."

"Good to know Moony." And the orb seemed like it flashed a bit pink there for a moment. "Moving on to Nymphadora. Yeah, I saw said it. You can't hex an orb. I leave you 15,000 galleons and legal binding acknowledgement as a member of the Black Family." The shock on Tonk's face was priceless and her mother was a close second. "And the same goes for you Andromeda. As last male Black over the age of majority, the Headship reverts back to me regardless of any previous disinheritance giving me full power to create new judgments and overturn previous ones. Your actions gave me the courage to make my own stand and I am indebted to you for it. Consider this one way of giving my thanks for standing up to the scary people that happen to be our relations." I could hear almost hear a smile in his voice. I turned to glance at Mrs. Tonk's and saw tears threatening to fall from her eyes. "Welcome back Andy. In addition, I leave to you 50,000 galleons and the farm house near Cardiff. I know how much you love that house and the fun we used to have there as children." His voice took on a wistful tone. "All five of us together. The Black Terrors is what the townspeople called us when we blew in for the summer. Those days seem so distant now, but I will always treasure them." Wait. Five?

"Me too Sirius. Me too." Mrs. Tonks replied with emotion thick in her voice. Again, the orb flashed pink again and this time I noticed that I was not the only one to see it. It clearly got the attention of one of the research goblins and he started muttering to his partner in Gobbledydook, but the other just waved him off as Sirius voice continued coming out of the orb.

"I guess this brings me to Cissy, my partner in crime figuratively and literally. I have no wish to publicize your business, but I trust all the persons in this room so I am going to say what I have wanted to say for the past few years. Leave Narcissa. Draco is not a baby anymore and I can tell that you mean as much to him as he does to you. What is keeping you? Why do choose to stay? Lucius is obviously not the man that you married anymore not that I liked the arrogant prick much then. In the beginning, I knew that he loved you and made you happy much to my dismay. However, after the sparse encounters we've had over the past two years, you looked like a shell of the lively cousin that I know and love. For the second time, he has chosen a megalomaniac over his wife and son. I also hope to the Gods you're not still trying to wait out for Bella. I told you before the end of the first war that Bella was lost to us. She's gone. She would just as quickly kill her own cousin and sister as she would a rodent on the ground. So I ask again, what are you waiting for? Voldemort is back and seems more unbalanced than he did last time. Don't let Lucius take you and Draco down with him." What the hell? I guess they all were closer than I originally thought even though I had to squash down the rage that came up when he mentioned Bellatrix Lestrange. _Crazy Bitch._ And the way he had said. If I didn't know better, I would say that Sirius foresaw his death at her hand or something. Before I could continue on that train of thought however, Sirius voice interrupted my thoughts.

"But there in lies the rub of Draco. No offense to you kid or Cissa, but you have some hard decisions coming upon you soon and I cannot even attempt to guess where your heart truly lies. You wear your Slytherin mask well. Too well matter of fact. By direct blood, the title of Lord Black belongs to you as the last living male Black. However, I cannot trust you in good conscience because I haven't gotten the chance to know you. Voldemort has plenty of monetary support from the old families including the Malfoys. But if I have anything to do with it, he will not see one bronze sickle of the Black fortune going towards his cause. You have been surrounded by Lucius's propaganda for so long, but I know it has also been tempered with your mothers refutes and kindness. This leaves us in quite a pickle. So the only thing I could think of was—" Whatever Sirius was about to say was cut off by Andromeda addressing the goblins.

"Pardon my interruption. But I have two questions before we continue on." The goblins nodded in response, "For the researchers, what is the nature of Sirius's intelligence within this orb? Is it just like a recording or something else?"

"I'm Hammerrod by the way. As for your questions Mrs. Tonks, the intelligence and magic work similarly to that of a portrait. An echo of the real person if you will. The org will respond similarly to how Mr. Black would usually respond."

"I can hear you guys you know." Sirius's voice came out of the orb.

Andromeda nodded in reply glancing at Sageblade. "The second question goes to both you and Hammerrod. In light of recent events, how does this change affect some of decisions Sirius has made?" However, before either of the goblins could answer 'Sirius' cut back in.

"What events?" The orb turned pink again and the same goblin that had notice before looked at Hammerrod as if to say 'Told you so.'

"Well, Sirius…" Remus started, but Sirius interrupted him.

"Spit it out Moony." He grew silent and the pink color grew in intensity. "What is it? Is someone else dead? Hold on. Who haven't I heard from? Harry? Are you there? Please tell me you are sitting in that room." Hearing the fear in his voice shocked me for a moment before Remus nudged me to say something.

"Sirius. I'm here and I'm fine." I said trying to keep my voice even.

"Good." He said as he made a sound similar to one releasing a breath of air. "Don't be so slow on the uptake next time. You almost scared the hell out of me. Okay. Who else haven't I heard? Dora?"

"I'm here Sirius." Tonks replied.

"Thank you. Cissy?" Silence permeated the room and I looked over to see Andromeda and Tonks looking at each other as if deciding who was going to give the news. "Cissa? Somebody say something?"

"Narcissa is alive Sirius, but she wasn't able to make the reading. I believe she is safe." Andromeda flinched after the words were out of her mouth and I think it is safe to guess that Sirius or his echo at least caught the words used as the orb went to a darker pink that was bordering on purple. I took a quick glance over at the goblins and immediately realized that something was not going right. Hammerrod and his unnamed colleague were speaking rapidly in Gobbledydook with the other goblin gesturing wildly to the orb. Rangok and Sageblade looked like they had just as much problems following the conversation despite it being in the goblin language.

"You _believe_ she's safe. Don't tell me that git of a husband has finally crossed the line. Is she okay? Is her son there in her stead? Draco?"

"Umm. Sirius…" Tonks started off in a tone that I rarely hear her use. The uncertainty was palpable in it. "Draco was found dead in September."

The room was dead silent with the exception of the research goblins arguing. But even they went silent as the orb turned a deep purple and started blinking rather than having a constant glow. I could have sworn I heard one of them murmur the word impossible, however, that it was drowned out by Sirius's one word response. "Fuck!"

Again, the orb kept blinking purple. "What happened? Who would do that to him? Sure he wasn't boy of the year, but I know enough to know he didn't deserve that."

Remus spoke up. "I agree. Honestly, we don't know that much more than you actually. Narcissa disappeared three weeks after his funeral and we just found out she was alive today."

"Lucius?"

"He was in Azkaban when it happened. We don't even know if he knows or not."

"Merlin Cissa." None of us really had anything to say to that. I looked around the room to see the two research goblins looking warily at the orb while Rangok had his head in his hands. After a few seconds of staring, Hammerrod finally stepped towards looking very resigned.

"Mr. Black."

"Yes."

"My name is Hammerrod from the research and development department at Gringotts."

"Yeah, I remember you and your partner Feverspear I believe."

The unnamed goblin stepped closer to the orb. "You flatter us by remembering our names Lord Black. We have some questions that we hope you can answer for us."

"Ask on."

"First question. Can you tell me today's date?"

"No, I can't. Everything looks the same here. I can't tell day from night."

"Looks the same? So you can see. Do you have the remainder of your senses? Any feelings?" Feverspear nodded to Hammerrod who started to make runic marks around the orb and chant. Halfway through the chant, an almost holographic map of a sort rose up.

"Do I? I'm freezing my arse off. I am so bloody cold it's ridiculous. However, I have not had the urge to eat or urinate."

"Can you tell me anything about where you are located?" Feverspear asked as he looked at Hammerrod who was still analyzing the map.

"Located? It's dark here and I fill like I am floating. I'm dead; how else am I supposed to fell like? I either expected this or some white light with old friends on the other end." Sirius was starting to sound annoyed.

"Noted. Mr. Black. I thank you for your patience in answering these questions. Two more and we will leave you at peace for the day. When was the very last time you updated your will?"

"I would have to say March of 1996. Why?" I could hear the questions in the voice. His voice. _Sirius's voice._

"We'll get to that in just one moment. What was the very last thing you remember before the darkness?" Feverspear looked to Hammerrod who nodded his head in response. If I didn't know better, Hammerrod looked a peaky now all of a sudden while Feverspear looked much focused on what Sirius's response was going to be.

"Falling." That one word made the blood rush through my ears as pandemonium broke out in the room. I barely heard Sageblade declaring that he would have to declare any information generated from the will null and void until further investigation. I barely heard Remus demanding to know what was going on after sensing the distress of the goblins. I faintly heard Feverspear informing Rangok that he needed to contact the Department of Mysteries as soon as possible. I just felt overall numb when Hammerrod informed Remus that the blinking purple color indicated a response to stimulus and active brain function and processing.


	8. Chapter 8: The Home Front Part 2

**Chapter Eight: **The Home Front, Part Two

**Hermione**

**December 27, 1996**

For the first time in all my years, this has to be the first time that I am happy that the holiday season is nearly over and not just because I get to return back to my studies. With Voldemort's return, I find it horrifically hard to sit with my parents and pretend that everything is okay. But I guess that would be my fault since I haven't actually told them the truth. I mean really, how do you sit your parents down and tell them that a blood supremacist wizard is out the take over the Wizarding world, possibly the whole world, and that persons like my self are amongst the first to be eliminated. Their knee jerk reaction to such news would probably be to have me removed from the school and from that world like any other self respecting parent who cares for child's safety. However, I can't let that happen. Even if I did want to leave the Wizarding World, it is now too late for such thoughts. By befriending Harry, whom I do not regret, I placed the marker on my head. Not only myself, but also my parents would be in more danger with me unable to use magic and no type of support system.

Sometimes I wonder if I am hiding my secrets as well as I think I am because every now and then, I catch my father looking at me with an odd expression on his face. Maybe it's my own guilt and paranoia getting to me. I have never hidden so much from my parents until I entered the Wizarding world and I know it's my fault for this ever-increasing distance emerging between us. My natural curiosity tempts me to question why he looks at me like that. However, he could easily respond with questions that I do not want to get into answering. If I didn't know better, part of me would believe that he knows something.

Anyways, I will admit that I am most definitely anxious to get back to the Burrow to see what's going on with the Order and Weasley front since Ron's letters usually leave a lot to be desired. I had never really noticed it before because I usually gathered the remaining information needed from Harry, when he's allotted the information, that is. Unfortunately, I've only received one letter from Harry the whole time I've been home and it contained less information than Ron's.

I am disappointed to say that this is not surprising considering the changes in Harry's behavior these past few months. After being depressed and distraught for about three months, he seemed to snap out of it. However, I can most definitely say that this is not the same Harry we know. After emerging from his depression, he seemed to withdraw away from everyone adopting a more detached attitude towards everyone including Ron and myself. It scares me sometimes. People say that the eyes are the windows to the soul; but if that is the case, Harry has shut the blinds on us. The eyes that I used be able to read as quickly as my favorite book are now heavily shielded, almost like the Slytherin mask. It appears that the only person who is remotely able to pull any emotion out of him is Professor Dumbledore and even that relationship has changed dramatically. That grandfather-grandson relationship that they used to have is now nonexistent and has been that way since June. From what I can gather, Dumbledore disclosed something to Harry that just set him off. I don't know what it was, but it appeared to be the straw that broke the camel's back. Watching Harry's interactions with Dumbledore, it appears that Harry almost considers Dumbledore a necessary evil. Don't get me wrong; he's still displays good manners and is pleasant, but the warmth is gone leaving a shell of respect and professionalism.

I guess two positive results have come from this change. The first is that in some ways, it has brought Ron and I closer together and that for all his faults, he is good guy. Some of the things that I used to find grotesque, I now accept as either cute or something that is just uniquely Ron. My God. Don't tell me I have a crush on one of my best friends. This is something that I am going to just place in the far back of my mind for now. Moving on, the second positive is that Harry himself has become more invested in his studies. Almost every time I saw him throughout the first term, he either had his head in a book or off 'practicing practicals' as he would say. However to add injury to insult, I got the feeling that I was not distinctly wanted at some of these study sessions. It appears that Harry is distancing himself from everyone. I just hope it doesn't get worse with time.

**January 15, 1997**

I haven't had the chance to write in a while. Everything has been so busy lately with blowups and surprises. Upon arriving at the Grimmauld Place, I immediately received a warning from Ginny and Ron not to push Harry for information. It turns out I didn't even need the warning since Harry had kept himself mostly sequestered in Sirius's old room for the remainder of the holiday. From what I was able to gather, it appears that something went on during the Sirius's will reading since Remus and Tonks came back just as affected. Making little inferences from the information I was able to gather, it seems that Sirius had volunteered for some experimental program with Gringotts that used goblin mind magic to enable a person to be able change their will and other estate business without having to step foot in the bank. I guess this was the reason why it took almost six months for it to be read. Due to said mind link, they discovered some interesting news during the will reading with the main piece of news being that Sirius is not as dead as originally thought since the mental link still responding to new information delivered and changed the will accordingly to Sirius's wishes. As a result, the will reading was shut down and the goblins and researchers in the Department of Mysteries are working double time to figure out what happened and if it is possible for Sirius to be retrieved from the veil. Doesn't it almost sound like a muggle science fiction movie?

Still that doesn't explain why the tension between Dumbledore and Harry has increased since said will reading even though it seems more like it is Harry who is the one on a warpath. The conversations that I witnessed between the two almost remind me of meetings between two solicitors with the amount of back and forth going between them. Part of me really wonders what big secret Dumbledore disclosed to cause Harry to loose so much of his trust and esteem for the man because Order members and offspring, young and old, are continuously shocked by the amount of suspicion and tenacity he displays in their interactions. Dumbledore appears to be taking Harry's new attitude in stride. However, his facial expressions do belie him at times because I have seen some expressions of hurt, and surprisingly, guilt. But what could Dumbledore possibly be guilty of? I have no idea. Anyways, this strange change in dynamic did result in some positives. Starting in February, Harry will start receiving training from Moody, Kingsley, and Tonks. Ron and I, much to Mrs. Weasley's dismay, were invited also since we're usually in the vicinity when trouble finds Harry. About time, I would say. Like it or not, we are in this and we could use all the help we can get. I just hope this time together brings Harry back closer to us.

**February 26, 1997**

I am writing this entry on the verge of exhaustion, but a good amount has gone on since the last time I have written. So I guess I'll start out with the good news. Ron and I have been going out for about a week now. It turns out that Ron has liked me since fourth year. Anyways, he asked me to meet him outside after he was done with quiddich practice. We then walked down to the lake with him attempting to make small talk. I knew where this conversation was going and had long decided to give it a try, but I didn't want to interrupt him. After about twenty minutes of stilted silence and overall feelings of awkwardness and nervousness, I decided to take mercy on him and made the first move. I actually don't have much to say about the relationship as of right now since we haven't been together that long. The kisses are …nice. They are not on par with Victor Krum, mind you, but that is okay since we are still learning.

Then there was the process of telling Harry. Actually that went easier than what I thought it was going to be. He didn't seem the least bit surprised. He just gave us a lukewarm smile and said "About time!" Part of me wondered when I was ever going to see one of his full smiles again. Speaking of the devil, things have gotten a little better between us since we started the training, which by the way gave me a whole new respect for the training aurors went through. There's no point in complaining and we are seeing great improvement for our hard work. However, Ron and I are not progressing as nearly as quick as Harry, which leaves me to believe that his extra study sessions and practicals are paying off. As much as I want to, I haven't even attempted to ask him what he is doing on the side since he only just started to thaw out again. I just observe and I can observe that he is working hard. For what, I don't know. It would be easy to say the war that is coming, but we knew that back last year and I didn't see that much determination coming from him. Something tells me it has to do with whatever caused the rift between him and Dumbledore and not just the fact that Harry is a living breathing reminder of Voldemort's failure. Sometimes I get up extra early to study or finish an assignment and I see Harry outside running…running of all things. I can see the advantages to getting ones body into peak condition along with the magic, but it doesn't cease to come as a shock. Maybe I should take a page out of his book and pay attention to the body also.

**May 27, 1997**

If someone had told me two years ago that I would be journal writing in the library across from a Harry engrossed in his studies, I would have written a detailed recommendation for that person to be admitted to St. Mungo's. I mean really; Harry studying and I'm not. Ron would usually be here to spot this gross perversion of nature and return things to its "natural" order. But Ron is not here. Instead, Ron is at the Burrow grieving with the remainder of his family. Percy Weasley is dead. I can not believe it. Percy Weasley is dead. If I hadn't seen Ron come through the portrait hole holding a sobbing Ginny, I would have never believed it.

According to the Prophet, Minister Scrimgeour was on his way to France for reasons unknown. Percy was part of his envoy of eight including four aurors and two additional Ministry officials. It would also appear despite Scrimgeor's attempts to rid the Ministry of Death Eaters and its sympathizers; he was still unsuccessful because the portkey had a destination different than the one intended. They found themselves in the woods surrounded by ten Death Eaters and anti-apparation wards up. A battle ensued leaving one Ministry official and an auror dead before one of the other aurors found him self in the position to disable the wards. Due the chaos of the battle, no one really looked around to see who was with them and apparated back to the Ministry as soon as they felt the wards drop. The surviving aurors in the envoy gathered reinforcements to return back to the forest while Scrimgeour attempted to account for his staff finally realizing two were missing. More time was used since no one had any familiarity about the area they were portkeyed to and therefore could not immediately apparate back there. Once the aurors returned back to the scene, they saw the bodies of the auror and the Ministry worker, but no Percy and no Death Eaters. At first they believed that Percy may have very well been kidnapped by the Death Eaters; but that didn't make sense since they killed the other Ministry official and auror with no qualms. However after analyzing the area where the attacks took place, they found a pool of blood and it matched Percy's. The consulting healers and investigators determined unfortunately that there had been too much blood spilled for Percy to realistically survive without immediate medical attention and since it took nearly four hours for the aurors to determine the location, he more than likely expired. Then that blood spilt probably drew the attention of animals within the forest and thereby scattering his remains.

I didn't even really get a chance to talk to Ron before he left and if I had, there probably was very little I could say. Ron and Percy didn't get along, but they were still brothers.

This is the largest attack Voldemort and his Death Eaters have staged so far. I guess it was wishful thinking on our part that he would stay silent. He has thrown his gauntlet.

**August 23, 1997**

Ron and I are done. Ron and I are done and neither one of us is actually upset about it. Weird, huh? Considering our never ending ability to bring out the worst in each other, our breakup was surprisingly conflict free. But then I guess it helps that we both knew it coming and it was only a matter of who was going to initiate it was in question. You can only imagine my surprise when Ron gathered his courage first and asked me to take a walk with him around the Burrow grounds.

I guess there are plenty of reasons for our separation, but one of the main ones for me was that I just didn't see him like that after a while. Like I mentioned earlier, the kisses were nice. Just nice. Other than that, I felt nothing. No passion. No enrapturement. No romantic love. No lust. Just the pleasant sensations that come from a kiss. However, I decided to give it more time since this was my first relationship and didn't want to be fickle like so many persons of our age are accused of being. Actually, I had known it wasn't working for quite a while and was thinking of ways to break it to him gently. But the news of Percy's death had delayed that plan. There was no way I could be that callous or insensitive especially with the way he was hurting.

Considering Ron and Percy's relationship, I had no idea what sort of reaction to expect from Ron. Nevertheless, I was still shocked by reaction yielded from Ron. His silence. Ron was never the silent type; you usually knew what he was thinking even if he didn't want you to find out. It was like the nature of things turning on its head. No anger. No opinions. No tears. He went into this state of distracted silence like his mind was always elsewhere. None of his jokes. None of his declarations of everlasting love to quiddich. None of his stating the obvious. Not much of the things that made Ron Ron. Upon his return to Hogwarts after the funeral, his silence jarred most of the Gryffindors even Harry who was beginning to be called the Gryffindor Ice Prince amongst the student population due to his own changes in agenda and attitude.

Like with Harry, all I could do was to be there for him. Most nights I just held him as he talked about how Mrs. Weasley fainted upon hearing the news. He talked about being woken in the dead of night to see his father sobbing drunkenly while he believed everyone was asleep. He talked about Ginny taking over the household duties while Bill handled the funeral arrangements. He talked about the Fred and George's inability to look any of their family in the eye. He talked about the trip Charlie and he made to clean out Percy's apartment. But he never talked about himself.

Since May, that's what I have been doing. I've been a friend just like Harry except I don't believe they hold each other at night. Instead they have taken to running together since Harry arrived. I have no idea what they talk about but whatever Harry is doing is working because he comes back a little brighter each day. A short reprieve from the cloak of silence that permeates his demeanor that I came to realize was a cloak of regret.

One night out of the blue, he told me that he couldn't take it back. Of course I asked him what he couldn't take back, but he just kept saying it. I can't take it back. I'll never have the chance to take it back. I could feel his tears seeping through my shirt and my heart went out to him because it was true. My mother always had a rule that we never leave the house angry; that before we went our separate ways throughout the course of the day, we made sure to square away conflict because for all we know that may be the last time we see each other. Smart woman. It turns out the last words exchanged between Ron and Percy was actually the same night that Percy insulted his parents and walked out. Hurtful words apparently went back and forth, but Ron admits the heaviest of the vitriol came from Fred, George, and himself. Even though Percy was wrong, he'll never be able to apologize. They will never able to hug and makeup. They may never truly be at peace with their lost. All they have left are last few moments spent with him and those moments were not good. Ron told me that the last words he said to Percy replay over in his mind in a loop whenever he sees something that brings Percy to mind. There was absolutely nothing I could say to make that better so I just kept holding him like I held him every other night. Nothing sexual. Nothing romantic. Apparently, that was enough for him as he starts to come back to the bloke we know and he told me such when we took our final walk around the Burrow as a couple.

He told me that he was appreciative of me being there as a friend rather than girlfriend in his trying time. He told me that he was sorry for not being the boyfriend material that I desired. I guess Ron is more perceptive than I give him credit for. He told me that he will always care about me and hopes that this "thing" we had won't affect our friendship adversely. It hasn't affected our friendship surprisingly. If anything, it seems that it has strengthened it. We don't argue nearly as much as we used to before the relationship. Things that used to start World War three between us now usually result in a warm smile and an eye roll. Really, most friendships are ruined by things like this. Maybe we're just weird. If so, I wouldn't have it any other way.

**December 26, 1997**

When Professor Dumbledore told us darker times were ahead back in sixth year, I had readied myself as much as possible for a full brunt of violence, disorder, and death. So you can imagine my surprise to count that since his return, there hasn't been more than a dozen attacks. Part of me should have been happy for this small amount of activity. However, I couldn't help but feel unsettled by the lack of attacks. I had a feeling that Voldemort's new hobby, whatever it was, would not be to our benefit and boy was I right.

One speculative reason for his lack of activity could be that he didn't have all of his resources to his disposal. That shouldn't be a problem now since his recent Azkaban breakout freed a number of dangerous Death Eaters including his monetary arm and right hand man, Lucius Malfoy. How he managed to win the alliance with the dementors will never cease to astound me. I have a feeling things are about to go from bad to worse for us.

**February 23, 1998**

I knew I should have kept my mouth shut earlier when I said things were going to get worse because in some ways, they most definitely have. Voldemort's attacks have picked up in frequency, but not enough yet for the Ministry to declare a state of war. It's not enough yet to cause people to stock up on goods and barricade themselves in their homes. However, it is enough to have people looking over their shoulders and ready to apparate at a moments notice with good reason also. When the Voldemort and his Death Eaters strike, they hit hard. It's like this war is on two levels, the psychological and the physical, and some might argue that he is winning the psychological due to sheer paranoia that he is sowing amongst the general populace.

In the spirit of things going from bad to worse, I believe that there is something wrong with Professor Dumbledore. I understand that he is an older gentleman and that older people have their moments of physical weakness, but that was something I never noticed in the Professor until recently. He always seemed to possess a vitality of someone less than half his age. Now, it seemed that he looked a little sickly and had appeared to loss some weight. But the greatest scare was when he nearly fainted in the middle of a Heads meeting with myself and Justin Finch-Fletchley. He's also taken to wearing gloves a lot in public, but that can be attributed to his usual eccentric style. Hopefully, it is nothing serious and he will be back to his omnipotent-like self soon.

**July 19, 1998**

I have officially seen it all. Something has got to give. We all knew that the war for the British Wizarding World was beginning to come into realization, but it doesn't halt the shock, pain, and changes that are left behind by Voldemort actions. Neville. Bumbling, clumsy, nervous Neville Longbottom is no more. I know we should be happy for him growing out of these traits, but it's just another reminder of how things are changing and the cost this war has and will incur.

Two days before our graduation from Hogwarts, Voldemort decided to attack the Neville's remaining family resulting in the death of his grandmother and his great uncle Algie. We have no idea why; but if we were to make a guess, it may be due to Neville's presence at the Department of Mysteries or Augusta Longbottom's hard line outspoken condemnation of Voldemort and his supporters on the Wizengamot floor. As to why he waited so long, it could be anybody's guess. Anyways, Neville is practically last of his line with his parents being in St. Mungo's.

As to how this affected him. Let's just say that I am beginning to understand the quote, "There is nothing more dangerous than a man who has nothing to lose." The reservation and uncertainty that has ruled Neville most of his life is gone. Really, it is just like he doesn't care anymore. When asked about the change in attitude, he just said "I have no one. Who am I going to shame or disappoint?" It's quite odd actually. Harry went cold and detached. Ron went silent and melancholy. Neville has been quite all over the place, but if I had to identify one overarching emotion for him, I would say anger. Some days he's as brooding and cold as Harry. Others days he is right as rain.

However, the days that scare me most is when he displays hot anger that is usually associated with Ron. With his old meek and unassuming demeanor, I never really took in Neville physically, only the cursory acknowledgement of him being a slightly chubby boy I remember in first year. His new anger and aggressiveness, however, call to attention his imposing size and girth he has gained over the years. Thinking back over it, he probably received more exercise than most at Hogwarts due to the manual attention and lifting needed in herbology. Standing at 193.04cm and 105kg of mostly muscle, he has Ron by two inches and three stones and I had always considered Ron physically very tall and muscular in build.

So one could imagine my surprise when I walk into the back yard to for a chance to get some fresh air and instead saw something I would deny happening if I didn't see it with my own eyes; Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom were beating the stuffing out of our each other. I was so shocked by what I was seeing that I probably stood there for at least a minute before fetching someone to separate them. It took Ron, Remus, and one of the twins to break it up. After standing there giving death glares to each other, the gits started laughing and walked off into the house. Sometimes I just don't understand boys even though Remus, Ron, and Fred seemed to be just as perplexed as myself.

We never found out what that fight was about, but we did notice that the relationship between the two did change and consequently changed the mood of the Grimmauld Place a little. Harry and Neville grew closer, which made Harry a little less cold and Neville a little less angry. Considering their situations, I can see the reason for their strengthening friendship. They relate on levels I hope Ron and I never have to comprehend. Ron and I haven't had the displeasure of losing our parents and most of the other people of value in our lives. That's one place we can't follow them and begin to understand. A lackadaisical attempt would be insulting and patronizing to both of them. I explained such to Ron when he began to get a little jealous of their exclusiveness at times and also reminded him that we were adults now and not possessive three year olds claiming their first friend at pre-school. Although, I had to wonder did other students notice that same sort of exclusiveness with the three of us in our Hogwarts days?

Anyways, things are sort of better around here. Harry is now joined on his fitness activities by both Ron and Neville. Things have also gotten a little better between Dumbledore and Harry even though they are nowhere near how they used to be.

**September 30, 1999**

I can't believe it. We are officially Order members. The day Ron and I have been looking forward to ever since we were fifteen years old. You noticed that I left out Harry. Oh yes, he's in the Order too, but he doesn't appear to be nearly as enthused about it as he used to be. Again, it appears to be that lesser of evils attitude popping back up with him. In addition to us three, we were joined by a good amount of our Hogwarts year mates including Neville, Dean, Seamus, Susan Bones, Hannah Abbott, Ernie Macmillian, and shockingly, Lavender Brown.

As for why they waited a year, I asked Remus and he told me that they wanted young members to get comfortable in the adult world and our chosen fields before picking up any additional responsibilities. There's a problem with that however. Plenty of us still aren't comfortable in our chosen fields, or worse, haven't chosen a field yet. From the people I talked to, it appears to be a vacillation between practicality and passion. Everyone knows what's coming and acknowledges the advantages of getting training in healing, dueling, or potions, but what about when it's over? How easy will the transition be? Would there be a transition as it is so easy to become complacent at times? Remus says anyone could be of use to the Order regardless of their career choice, but I believe dueling and healing experience would look very appealing when various unsavory spells are shooting across ones head.

Practicality reined supreme for myself and I therefore decided to officially train as a Mediwitch. I believe it was a just compromise. I've always had an interest in healing and considering the growing number of the Order, Madam Pomprey would probably be more than a little overstretched if a full battle was to take place and could use all the help she could get. If I'm still interested after the war, I'll be on the fast track to become a Healer or if I'm tired of seeing blood by then, I won't be too invested that it would make me reluctant to switch fields. I'm still training with the Tonks and Moody on the side. Neville decided to stick with the Herbology as his official field while studying up on and attempting to make necessary potions on the side such as Veritaserum and Skele-Grow. It does make sense; without magical plants, a brewer isn't going to get that far. Unsurprisingly, Professor Snape doesn't know about Neville's extracurricular brewing yet and I don't want to be around when he finds out considering that Snape hasn't been in contact with the new and improved Neville much. Did I also mention that Neville is also becoming a very strong dueler? Ron still appears to be undecided and he divides his time between helping Fred and George at their shop, practicing on his broom, and dueling with various Order members for practice. As for Harry, despite his focus on dueling and warfare, he still has not chosen any official field. He just told us to ask him again after Voldemort is gone.

**March 25, 2000**

My God! I think it is safe to say that Voldemort is a fan of symbolism because it seems that with the start of the new Millennium, he decided to step up his attacks and overall mayhem. Abductions, prophecies, secrets, and skirmishes. There truly has not been a dull day in this month for the Order. Matter of fact, I believe things may pretty well be exciting from now on. We almost lost Molly and that is something I almost can't believe, but it nearly happened. Of all the people involved in the Order and risking life and limb, I would have never believed that the Weasley matriarch would be one of the first to stand before Voldemort, let alone live to tell the tale.

My goodness. That was a horrific twenty four hours. I can still remember Ron paling rapidly when Molly's patronus found its way to Headquarters followed shortly by Kingsley alerting us to the attack. I can remember the heated back and forth between Snape, Dumbledore, and the elder Weasleys that night before Snape was summoned. More noteworthy however, was the look of sheer bafflement Snape displayed upon his return to Grimmauld Place after that summons.

Three days ago, Molly left for Diagon Alley to run some errands. Despite Voldemort stepping up his activities, most believed that he wouldn't attack a major place of commerce in broad daylight. Well, most were wrong, myself included. According to her recount, she was passing by Florean Fortescueon her way to the apothecary when the Death Eaters apparated in. Ducking into Florean's for cover, she was met by at least three mothers with pre-Hogwarts age children in tow. She watched as they attempted and failed to apparate out noting that some Death Eaters must have already been in the alley in plain clothes due to the speed in which the anti-apparation wards were erected.

Florean decided to erect some wards of his own and have the families escape through the floo in the basement of the shop. Molly and one of Florean's employees were in the middle of helping the helping the children through when Florean's wards broke. The fighting heard upstairs spurred them on to get the children out of there as soon as possible. The last child had just flooed away when Death Eater curses started to rain down on them. All she heard before she met darkness was, "She's a Weasley. Leave her for the Dark Lord."

She woke up with a pounding headache to find herself surrounded by the Death Eaters and Voldemort himself. Knowing of Voldemort's aptitude in the mind arts, she immediately started burying any information she had regarding the Order with the number one priority being Snape knowing that he was probably somewhere within that crowd of Death Eaters. She tried to force herself to think of things most people in her situation would think of like the fact that she may never see her family again. She also allowed herself succumb slightly to the disorientation she felt from the head injury to make things even more muddled for him when he would invade.

Between the pounding in her head and fruits of her own efforts, she barely heard when Voldemort addressed his Death Eaters and was therefore taken off guard when he lifted her to her feet and started his invasion. Memories went through her head at speeds unmatched. Making it a point to keep her mind on her children that she may never see again, she managed to veer him off course slightly since she knew she had no way of keeping him out. However, that thought managed to bring forth one secret that she almost forgot that she knew herself and it was a secret that made Voldemort hiss with anger. Pushing her away from him, he cast the _Cruciatus_ on her for what felt like hours before he ordered one of the Death Eaters to take her back to the dungeons. As she drifted in and out of consciousness, she felt a wet hand grab hers and felt telltale navel yank of a portkey. Someone saved her and she had no clue who that the person was. The only noteworthy thing she could tell us was that before he dropped her off at St. Mungo's, he handled her like precious cargo. He caught her in his arms before her already injured body could hit the ground forcefully as which was usually the case with portkeys. He apparated and carried her around as if she weighed nothing and we all know that Molly is not a light woman. He said nothing the whole time until they arrived at St. Mungo's where he kissed her on the forehead and murmured some words that she could barely hear.

Now if I thought the story was weird from just Molly's version, Professor Snape's rendition took it up to a whole new level since he is not one easily neither impressed nor jarred. The fact that he gave his recount in the company of Firewhiskey spoke volumes.

As he stood in the throne room, he was uneasy with the fact that he could be exposed due Voldemort's impending invasion of Molly's memories, but he knew it was risk he would have to take if he was going to have any chance of getting her out of there, hopefully without exposing himself. Upon arriving at the fortress, he hoped upon hopes that Molly hadn't been taken to the throne room yet because chances of a successful escape dropped dramatically when one was in the room. The whole fortress was heavily warded, but the throne room along with other places that Voldemort frequently haunts had extra wards placed on them by Voldemort himself in Parselmouth making it almost impossible to be broken by anyone else except for another Parselmouth. Arriving in the throne room to see Molly unconscious on the ground, he knew that it was out of his hands. With the wards along with at least twenty five Death Eaters and the Dark Lord, he knew both of them would be dead before they reached the throne room door let alone the portkey and apparation rooms so all he could do was hope that Voldemort was in a good mood. Good moods were fleeting, few, and far between for the Dark Lord since his return. When he was in a good mood, he had more patience and allowed his followers to take them to the dungeons and wear them down. He would have them brought up once a day to search their minds until he received the information he wanted. It wouldn't be too hard to collect her without too risk to his own person. However, if he was not in a good mood, he would rip through her mind with the care of a troll along with curses that would have her wishing for death. He didn't even go on to say that he would probably be as good as dead also. I'm ashamed to admit how readily we forget what he has to go through at times.

As Voldemort greeted the crowd, he was relieved to see that Molly's capture in of itself had put him in a good mood. Though not an active fighter usually, Voldemort and his inner circle Death Eaters understood the value of the Weasley matriarch as an infrastructural and morale backbone for the Order, especially with so many Weasleys being within their ranks. Her death would jar plenty of people and probably resonate through the entire Order. Oh, yes. It was a good night for Voldemort. As usual according to Snape, he digressed into one of his pureblood mania speeches about rebuilding the Wizarding World to Salazar's vision that had the Death Eaters eating out of his hands. Snape stated that he had no idea of Molly's aptitude in the mind arts so all he could do was hope for the best and prepare for the worst.

He had long ago stopped fearing death and the nonchalant way he said it still echoes in my head.

He watched on as Voldemort took Molly by the arms and held her up to his eyes to begin his assault. After about two minutes, he practically threw Molly to the ground and quickly cast the _Cruciatus_ on her for about thirty seconds. He knew that whatever he saw wasn't good and therefore things were about to get bad. He straightened his shoulders for the inevitable and waited for those red eyes to lock on his person. Instead Voldemort's glare locked on the figure that he knew was Lucius Malfoy and he ordered someone to return a shaking and semi-conscious Molly to the dungeons. Whatever relief Severus may have gotten from that statement was short lived as the person who retrieved Molly immediately disappeared from the throne room with Molly in tow.

Pandemonium immediately ensured since most knew that Voldemort warded this room himself and that two persons had just cut through the wards like butter. Severus knew that if Voldemort was angry earlier, he was now murderously incensed. From Voldemort's point of view, this was not just an escape; it was a mockery and challenge to Voldemort's power in front of his Death Eaters. This person not only managed to infiltrate and pose as one of his faithful, he brought question to his to his power by cutting through his wards declaring himself more powerful or smarter in some way. Oh yes. It was a bad night for Voldemort and therefore, a bad night for the souls to get the brunt of his wrath. Turning his attention to Voldemort, he saw him open his eyes and lower his wand from checking the wards. He walked over to the nearest Death Eater and grasped his arm. Snape barely had time to prepare as the mark brought almost everyone in the room to their knees with pain. Once having everyone's attention, he ordered everyone out except for the inner circle. He assigned the Carrows to investigate what could possibly surpass his wards, since they were not technically breached according to Voldemort, before dismissing them. Immediately after the door closed behind the Carrows, Lucius was under the _Cruciatus_ and Voldemort's face was twisted in rage.

It turns out that Draco Malfoy is alive and took steps before his disappearance to deny his father access to the Malfoy monies before faking his death and therefore denying Voldemort funding for his endeavors. After almost twenty minutes of watching Voldemort physically and verbally torture Lucius, Snape almost felt sorry for him. It appears that Lucius was greatly touched by Azkaban displaying signs of what looks like dissociative identity disorder according to Snape, which makes me wonder how on earth Snape knows what DID is. His mood and demeanor fluctuated greatly. Some days he would be solemn and defeated while other days he could be just as vicious as Voldemort himself. He was under the belief that his son was dead and that his wife abandoned him only leaving him eight thousand galleons to his name with the out of country accounts either closed or barred. Also during Voldemort's verbal tirade, the dark wizard said things that appeared to only have meaning for him and Lucius because Snape realized his puzzled countenance was reflected in the faces of the Lestranges and other members of the inner circle. _Two_ _generations of undependable blood traitors hiding behind the enigma of pureblood prestige…A lot of runners…Are you going to run Lucius?...Will I see you tomorrow?...That's okay… I'll help you fight your nature and make sure you don't run…like the others …or hide…like the others…Maybe Abraxas had the right idea after all and I was just too merciful of a Lord…Sometimes you Malfoys are more trouble than you are worth… _

Leaving Lucius attempting to retain what was left his dignity, Voldemort gave the three Lestranges the task of planning and initiating a continent wide search for the missing Malfoys and gave Severus the task of trying to find out from Dumbledore as much as he could about Molly Weasley's mysterious savior and the events of what happened after she was portkeyed away.

Severus arrived back to a nearly empty Grimmauld Place to be briefed by Remus that Molly was dropped off at St. Mungo's by a hooded man and should be able to come home in a few hours after they check to make sure there is no lingering damage from the _Cruciatus_. Four hours later, we all arrived back from St. Mungo's with Molly and both stories were put together the next morning with Dumbledore filling in some serious blanks for us.

It appears that Narcissa Malfoy came to him four years ago regarding a plot with Malfoy that was supposed to result in Professor Dumbledore's death. Both came to Dumbledore and told them of the plan and that they wanted nothing to do with the plan. They made a deal with Dumbledore sealed with a Wizard's Oath to make sure all Malfoy influence was withdrawn from the war in exchange for him protecting all Malfoy assets while they were out of the country and passing on information about the war if it pertained to the Black and Malfoy families. He didn't go into all the details considering what had just happened to Molly could happen to any of us. He just stated that the details are documented and in the event that something was to happen to him, the information would fall into the appropriate hands.

After the meeting dispersed, Molly's mysterious savior and the Malfoy Deal were the talks of all side conversations within the Order and everyone had their own opinion of course. The Weasleys were of course grateful for Molly's savior yet Arthur and Dumbledore were slightly worried since they didn't know the strangers identity and that Molly more than likely owed him a life debt. I'm just grateful to have her back so he is good in my books until future actions state otherwise. People were speculating on who this person could be with most believing that he was another Parselmouth, which lead to questions of could he really be trusted if he reemerged in the future. Some people honestly have no tact because they presented this asinine opinion with Harry still in the room. However, lucky or unlucky depending on whom you are, Harry is not ruffled by much anymore these days.

As for the Malfoy deal, opinions were all over the place. Some were happy with the move acknowledging that Voldemort's financial and political reach was shortened significantly. Some were disgusted with the fact that Dumbledore sat down in talks, let alone made a deal with the Malfoys. Some even believed that Draco and Narcissa were heartless for their actions against Lucius while some believed that Lucius received his just due considering the misery he had dished out throughout the years. Ron and some of our Hogwarts cohorts labeled Malfoy a coward for fleeing. Surprisingly, it was Luna who came to the Malfoys' defense asking everyone how they would have reacted to seeing Malfoy sitting in Headquarters requesting to be an Order member or publicly stating that he no longer support the Dark Lord. I can't speak for Malfoy since its been four years, but it's sad to say that some of these people still haven't grown up and therefore, haven't grown pass the houses. I know that interaction would not have been pretty. As for my feelings on the matter, I'm sort of indifferent about the whole thing, but I am happy to see that Malfoy is alive. Despite our history, death wasn't something I would wish on him. We are all adults now and hopefully things will be different if our paths should ever cross again.


	9. Chapter 9: Time's Up!

**AN:** I tried to make the chapters shorter to get them out quicker. I don't quite know how I fared in that regard. Again, I don't own them, but I love them and like to use them. Enjoy!

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**Chapter Nine: **Time's Up!

May 7, 2000: Canoncito, New Mexico

His hazel eyes met my own with an intensity that made me swear he could see right through me. His unflinching gaze laid bare all my deepest thoughts, secrets, and aspirations in life. Despite that however, I refused to cower and let my own hazel eyes remain fixated. I am the master. I am the teacher. I will not be defeated and my position usurped so easily by some little upstart. With my attention focused on my test of wills, I barely noticed the figure leaning over my shoulder.

"God Drew! You're almost twenty years old and still partaking in staring contests." An amused mother said while removing her son from my lap.

"But he started it this time." I responded.

"He's six months old!"

"I must start instilling my knowledge early since I have so much to impart. I have skills and any child or godchild of mine shall have these skills also. Isn't that right Terrance?" I said a tad smugly while looking at my godson giggling in his mother's arms. All I received in response was silence as I look at the baby encased in his mother's arms.

As said mother shook her head muttering about the arrogance of some and praying that her son didn't adopt the trait, I couldn't help but reminisce back on the past few years and be thankful that I have her in my life and that she thought highly enough of me to name me the godfather of her son despite everything that has happened. Yes, there is no doubt about it; Ebony Proctor is a wonder. It pains me sometimes to think that in another place and in another time I never would have had the opportunity to get to know someone like her.

It all started two years ago when for one of the first times in my life I found myself dazed and confused in a general chemistry course at the University of Santa Fe. It was truly an eye opening experience and challenged me in ways I had never been challenged. However, I was most definitely not enjoying the challenge that the rate reaction and mechanism portions of the course was giving me. No matter how much I reread the textbook and went over my notes, I just wasn't getting it considering how far I was off from the answers to the practice problems. The test was less than a week away and I was beginning the process of shoving my battered pride in an empty closet in hopes of approaching the professor when some deity influenced the professor to make her my partner. In less than an hour, I was successfully doing rate problems after following clear instructions to keep track of my units and that the rate is dependent on concentration. After weeks of reaping the benefits of Ebony's chemical acumen, I gradually began to see Ebony the person. Initially appearing solitary and quiet like myself at first glance, time enabled me to see an extremely brilliant, driven girl who despite all the promise and admiration she garnered, remained honest and real. It helped that she is fucking beautiful also.

What started off as a slight crush and admiration grew into a strong friendship as she noticed my solitary nature around campus and made it her personal mission to make me feel at home in the foreign environment. She picked my brain and I've picked hers. We even shared the awkward kiss between friends who quickly realize that they should stay friends and nothing more. She has shared so much with me and it pains me that there remains so much I am unable to share with her. It makes me feel undeserving of my Godfather title.

_Godfather._ I can't help but wonder what she sees in me that I can't see within myself. Why would she name me Godfather when the events surrounding Terrance's conception were partly my fault? Who knows the reasons Ebony does a lot of things especially keeping and giving birth to a child that was the product of an assault? Plenty of people, myself included, would not have blamed her for aborting considering the circumstances. Sometimes I look at her and wondered how different things would have been if I hadn't convinced her to go out that night. I wondered how different things would have been if I hadn't left her side ten minutes into the party for the brunette with the huge rack?

However, those thoughts usually leave my head the minute I look at Terrance and see those hazel eyes staring back at me. Ebony is of the belief that some things happen for a reason and that Terrance may very well be destined for great things. Maybe Ebony has the gift of premonition. Maybe if I had the ability to turn back time, I wouldn't because of the joy, love, and strength brought to Ebony and her family in the form of Terrance. There are plenty of maybes, but there is one thing I do know. Despite my great love for Terrance, his "father", and I use that word lightly, is as good as dead if I ever discover who he is. If I could get my hands on that sick craven piece of shit, I would go to Alcatraz with a smile on my face. But so far, no leads have been found. All I know is that he had to have had some magical assistance since no drugs were found in her system and she has no memory of the encounter except the physical signs and symptoms. This is the shit that gives magic users a bad name and breeds intolerance amongst the mundanes.

Shaking myself from such morose thoughts, I noticed Ebony was finally ready to leave her apartment. Picking up the Terrance's car seat and baby bag, I started to make my way to my car when my phone started to ring. Taking a quick glance at the caller ID, I knew I had to take this. He rarely calls unless it's absolutely necessary.

"Hello."

"I need you to come home. They know." Shit. No accent. Something big has gone down.

"Do I need to take the express way or the scenic route?"

"You can stick with the scenic route. It's just big news I would prefer to talk about face to face."

"Okay. I'll be there in half an hour." I said hanging up the phone and making a detour towards Ebony's car to place the items in her vehicle.

"Change of plans Ebony. Ted called and he needs me to do something for him."

"Do what you've got to do." That was another reason I love Ebony. She wasn't the clingy sort. Even though we only friends, I had seen friendships where the people had been just as demanding as lovers. Ebony knew that my cousin Ted was a bounty hunter and that I was sort of his apprentice. When she first found this out, she took one long look at me and just told me to stay safe.

I responded in thanks as I hoped into my car and took off towards Santa Fe. Usually, I enjoy being on the open road with nothing but the purr of the engine and some good music with me. However, I found my self speeding down the highway not even hearing the Jay-Z song that was on nor taking in any of the scenery that surrounded me. I knew I should have just apparated. All that circulated in my head were those two words. _They know._ I gripped the wheel tighter in response and ran a hand through my hair. I was so happy with my life. It's funny how those two words totally soured my day.

Before I knew it, I was pulling up to the house that I had called home for almost four years and what a difference it made. I felt myself calm significantly as I felt a familiar tingle flow over me upon entering the house. However, my calm ended upon the sight that greeted me in the sitting room. There I saw my cousin staring intensely into the false fireplace with two metal balls rolling in his palm. I looked at the coffee table and the seriousness of this situation was confirmed with the tumbler of bourbon present. There was no hint of Ted Forrester in his body language and Death wouldn't let himself look so affected. This was Alex and he was worried, which made me _very_ worried.

Taking the opposite the coffee table and forgoing the waiting game I started asking questions immediately. "What happened?"

"They snatched one of the Order members and it just happened to be the one who knew about you actually being alive. I'm going to put Cissa on speakerphone so she can give you more details."

I was almost immediately comforted by the sound of my mother's voice and the New York traffic serving as her background music. For the past four years, she chose to make New York City her refuge to my chagrin taking advantage of Alex's underused penthouse apartment. Upon asking her reasons for not coming to stay with us, she always skirts around the issue simply saying she wanted to give me room to grow.

But getting back to the crisis at hand, it turns out the details turned into an hour long discussion and brainstorming session between mother, Alex, and I that involved a lot of cursing and circular arguments. Or maybe that was just me due to the fact that we are just finding this out and it happened in March!

After a bit of venting on my part, I cooled down enough to realize that immediately this changed very little. I could probably walk down Diagon Alley right now and no one would recognize me especially with my distinctively straight blonde hair now a dark brown with loose curls and let us not even add in the other physical and style changes.

No, I did not have to worry about them attempting to break the wards on this house. They didn't even know where to begin looking and I was for all official records deceased. Hey, if Pettigrew could get away with it working solo, I certainly could with Alex at my back with his contacts. What we had to worry about what how desperate were they willing to flush us out and by they, I mean not only Voldemort, but the Ministry also. According to the family bylaws, Lucius couldn't touch the money or head title until every family member was deceased or indisposed due to his conviction. Malfoy rule number eight paraphrased: _A disgraced Malfoy is a useless Malfoy. Don't get caught. _Looking at the family history, wealth only accounted for about thirty percent of the family's growth and prosperity as a whole. Ambition, beauty, intellect, and most importantly reputation accounted for the rest. That wealth had to be earned some where down the line. Speculation could be tolerated, but Lucius's hand was caught totally in the cookie jar and as a result tarnished the reputation of the family name as a whole.

Also as sole survival of the clan with no innocent parties depending on his wages, Wizengamot could demand reparations for his treason against the Ministry and acts against the people of Great Britain. In short, Wizengamot and the Ministry could claim the Malfoy fortune as their own if my mother was eliminated in their eyes. There was also the big pink elephant in the room known as Voldemort who had enough contacts and spies within the Ministry to weave through the bureaucracy and put things in his favor. It takes money to fight a war and we Malfoys have a lot of it. I don't mean that in a boastful way. It's just the truth. Long story short, we have two groups gunning for that money and now as a result, gunning for my mother despite her reluctance to say those words flat out.

"Come to New Mexico with us." I said for it was the most obvious and safest way to go.

"No." That was her verbose reply.

"No? What do you mean no? You just told us that Dumbledore has done all he can to stall the Ministry without bringing attention to himself. You just told me that the Ministry is trying to flush you out while Voldemort is trying to flush both of us out. Again, I ask what do you mean no?" I said in dead voice to refrain from screaming at my mother. I wasn't in the mood for her portkeying over and hexing me where I stand.

Her voice was just as calm as mine, but I sensed undeterred conviction that did not ease my worries at all. "I said it before we left and I'll say it again. Neither will get their hands on that money. Do you have any idea how much damage could be done with that money at his disposal? Do you have any idea how hard your ancestors had--"

When she said ancestors, my temper snapped. "Damn the money! Bloody hell, damn the ancestors! I am not about to let you walk into a trap for that money. What kind of son would I be to allow you to do that?"

She retorted just as strongly. "And what kind of woman…no, what kind of human being would I be to let a family …my family loose its birthright and let it become tainted. Let it be used for violence. _Blood money!_" She lost some of her steam and continued in a tone that went straight to my heart. "If we let that money go Dragon, all of this is for naught. He would still hunt us probably on pure principle and would probably do a better job of it with better resources. Even if he never found us, think of the blood that would be on our hands. We might as well be out there throwing the curses with the Death Eaters. We would be no better. If anything, we would be worse because we practically signed the checks."

Her words put me into silence. I could care less about the money, I just wanted my mother safe. If they snatched her, I was coming no matter how outmanned I was. I know this. She knows this and Alex knows this. But to think that we would still be responsible for carnage thousands of miles away because we didn't fight for this money was a slap in the face. It was a Gryffindor state of mind. I resisted the urge to snort. I guess this proves how close she was with cousin Sirius. The Gryffs would probably view it worse since we didn't pick up a wand and do the heinous deeds ourselves. An accessory by fear. Guilty by resignation.

Swallowing, I decided to voice my thought process. "Okay. So we need to secure the fortune as well secure ourselves." I felt myself harden and weaken at the same time for the decision I was about to make. I had developed friendships here. I was comfortable here. Despite being in disguise, I like who I am. Andrew Delano Martin was more me than Draco Aiden Malfoy ever was, but I would give it all up for my mother. I heard the resolve in her voice and realized she was not going to let this money issue go. I am not the whiny sixteen year old I was four years ago however much I may act like it at times. It was time to 'man up' as Ebony would say. It was time for Draco Malfoy to return because they sure as hell wasn't going to see Narcissa Malfoy if I had anything to do with it. It's time for me to protect you mum.

Just as I about to introduce my idea, I was startled by the clack sound of Alex setting his metal balls on the table and picking up his bourbon. He took one long look at me and knocked his drink back. Picking back up his metal balls, he resumed staring into the fire. Thinking he wasn't going to say anything, I went to speak when he cut through the silence with four words. "I have an idea."

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May 26, 2000: St. Louis

Anita

The shower is calling my name. I'm dirty. I'm tired. I'm hungry. I'm a little horny. The first three can be easily taken care of, but the last one I refuse to even entertain right now. Things are complicated enough as it is. Stepping back and looking at the picture my life was becoming, I knew I had to stop. I was dating two men. I was sleeping with two men and seemed somewhat drawn to others. I was not raised this way. Don't get me wrong. There are still some things that I do that my family doesn't agree with. My career for one, but this just takes the cake. I had to step back away from them. Away from their influence. Away from their appeal. I had to see if this was what I really wanted and if it was, how much of myself was to be sacrificed to obtain it.

As you could probably guess, the boys were not happy with this situation even though Richard surprised me in taking it somewhat better than Jean-Claude did probably due to the moral implications of the topic. However, that did not stop either of them from attempting to contact me metaphysically and by way of the phone. Jean-Claude was most definitely persistent with his suggestive dreams that I had to block off the marks after nearly caving in twice. This did nothing but make the business sides of our relationship even more difficult. I needed distance to adequately think and my thought process was skewed by seeing both of them or people close to them almost twice a week.

Entering my apartment and heading straight for my toilet, I hadn't even begun to remove my blood and dirt soaked clothes when I heard a knock at the door. Who the hell would be knocking on my door at three in the morning other than a group of people I do not want to see right now? I can only hope it's not another council, pack, or pard disaster. We've been having enough of those so far recently that it's been enough to last me a life time.

Making my way to my door with my Browning in hand, hey a girl can never be too prepared, I realized that I probably look like I've already murdered someone judging by the clothes. Oh well. That's their problem. If they feel the need to knock on my door at three in the morning, they shouldn't be offended at being greeted by the blood soaked gun toting host.

"Who is it?" I asked en route to the door.

"Edward." Okay Edward. Wait! Edward knocking at the door? What is the world coming to? Usually, Edward would be at my kitchen table sipping coffee before I even came in. But then again, it has been over three years since I've seen him and that last time was just in passing. Shit. He must be calling in his favor because Edward and I don't do social visits despite us being friends. Damn, I had almost forgotten about that favor. Shaking myself out my partial stupor, I opened the door to find him standing there with a guest. I guess that's why he chose to knock rather do than to do his routine breaking and entering.

Edward quirked one blonde eyebrow at my appearance. "Rough night?"

I didn't even deem a response as I stepped back to allow Edward and his guest to step into my living room and giving myself a better view of them both. Edward looked practically the same as before. It seemed he grew his hair out a little more until it began to curl slightly on the ends. He also appeared to be a little thicker, but not much. Edward was always the sinewy sort. He was dressed in his classic black jeans and black button up shirt with an undershirt underneath. Again like I said, classic Edward. Turning my attention to his guest, who I immediately guessed to be Edward's junior by at least five years to a decade, the first thing that stood out to me was the dark brown curls that automatically made me think of Jean-Claude's black curls. Even though I could tell he was younger than Edward, he had Edward in height and girth standing around 6'1 to 6'2 with more muscle mass even though most would probably describe him as wiry also. However as young as he appeared to be, I definitely noticed his eyes calculatingly taking in his surroundings and his stance radiating confidence. Cautious but overall comfortable. Someone has been hanging Edward a good little while haven't they or either he has already met me before. No one is that comfortable walking into a stranger's house especially when said stranger is armed except law enforcement and they're armed themselves.

Leading them towards my kitchen I put on a pot of coffee because with Edward, I had a feeling I was going to need it if not more. Sitting my Browning on table in front of me and taking a sip of my precious coffee, I finally addressed Edward knowing how long it could take him to break the silence. "Aren't you're going to introduce us?" I asked gesturing towards Edward currently silent shadow.

"That's Drew. He's going to be working with us if you decide to help out." Edward answered while 'Drew' bowed his head in greeting.

I nodded in response. "So this isn't a social visit. What do you need Edward?"

Taking a sip of his own coffee, it became clear that Edward was taking his own time to answer and it appears I wasn't the only one slightly annoyed because thanks to supernatural hearing, I heard Drew mumble something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like "Fucking mental." I don't think he was talking about me.

"I'm calling in my favor Anita." No shit Sherlock.

Some of my impatience was beginning to shine through because I noticed the slight smirk that donned Edward's face. "And…? Again, what do you need Edward? What's the case about?"

Edward's lost his annoying smirk and took on a serious look with a little bit of mirth dancing in the eyes. Whatever he said, I had a feeling he was going to enjoy my reaction.

"There is no case. I need you to marry me."

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	10. Chapter 10: The Gathering

**Chapter Ten: **The Gathering

"Cut the bullshit Edward. What do you really need?" I so didn't need this. I'm tired and I'm hungry. That doesn't put me in the best of moods. Now Edward decides of all times he wants to be a comedian at three in morning.

"I'm serious as a heart attack Anita." Edward responded removing the mirth away from his face I guess to show his earnestness. "I need you to marry me."

Okay. Edward is not joking. Fuck! Edward is not joking. He wants me to marry to him. Is he on something? No, this is Edward. He wouldn't allow himself to be that vulnerable. Multiple questions were running through my head. What the hell type of job would require Death and the Executioner to get hitched? Hell, why me? Damn it, I need more coffee.

"What kind of job is this Edward that we would have to pretend to be married?" I asked going to get a refill. Just the thought of it was just odd.

Sitting back down, Edward still hadn't explained. Again, I repeat. I'm tired. I'm hungry. I'm dirty and I'm now shocked to death. I don't have patience tonight. "I know you are a secretive bastard, but I really need you to start at the beginning."

Whatever Edward was going to tell me, I guess he decided that he needed some caffeine too which was odd within itself. As he helped himself to some coffee, I took a look at my other guest to find him paying plenty of attention to one of the prints on my wall, some abstract shit from Jean-Claude. But I knew he wasn't really looking at it.

Sitting back down, Edward finally decided to speak. "No pretending. I need to legally marry you and you are the only female I trust for this job." If I say that didn't make me feel a little warm and fuzzy, I'd be lying. I was jarred from my thoughts by a snicker of all things, from Edward.

"I don't know why I keep calling this a job. In some ways it is and in some ways it is very personal." Taking his eyes off his coffee, he let some emotion into his face as he looked into my eyes. "By doing this, you will know more about me than anyone else with the exception of Drew and another person. As a wife and the due to the nature of the mission, there's no getting around you not having access to this information."

Okay, that's just cruel. Edward knows I'm a nosy bitch and that I would like nothing more than to explore the Bruce Wayne that goes along with Edward's Batman. Nearly unrestricted access to Edward's mysterious origins and the opportunity to find out what makes him tick. Priceless, but marriage? My dilemma must have shown on my face because Edward decided to continue explaining.

"First things first, I am going to need at least one month of your time." One month? Bert's going to flip. Wait. I haven't agreed to this yet. "With our combined incomes and work schedules, it wouldn't seem that unusual for us splurge and take a long honeymoon?"

At the thought of Edward and I on a honeymoon, I had to fight my blood from relocating to my face. "Honeymoon?"

If my face didn't give me away my unease, the pitch of my voice probably did. Edward smirked and in an odd gesture of personality rarely seen from him waggled his eyes in a faux flirtatious manner. "An European Honeymoon, which is where the mission will go down."

"What is the mission exactly?" I asked tabling the thought of the vampire politics that is going to complicate this matter even more for now.

"To secure the lives of my remaining family." That told me everything and nothing. Waiting for Edward to continue, Drew threw in his two cents.

"We would also like to prevent his birthright from becoming blood money in an approaching war." At the sharp look he got from Edward, he explained his outburst. "What? You already said she was going to be in the know. You're just being annoying with drawing it out and being vague." Finally, someone who sees it my way.

Edward replied. "Your birthright. Not mine."

Drew just waved his hand. "Alright, it's only my birthright because you don't want it." That means Drew and Edward are related. Hmmm. This brought a fleeting thought of the 'cousin' I met years back, but I was still more so focused on the thought of Edward having a birthright. Interesting, I can't envision Edward as a trust fund baby. If so, how the hell did he get into the assassin lifestyle? But that question is for a later date. Last I've heard there have been no major European Wars or threats of European War in almost a decade.

"War? What war?"

"A magical war." My confusion must have shown on my face because Edward interrupted my next train of thought. "Not the type of magic you're thinking. A civil war within a society of magic users."

"A society of magic users." I nodded. Society being the key word. He spoke of them like they had their own infrastructure. If that were the case, how come I had not heard of them? Despite their attempts at being low key, a good amount of people knew about fae and they were notorious for their secrecy. Who could have them beat?

"Magic users that use a focus to channel their magic. A wand to be exact." Edward said as he gestured to Drew who held up a thin wooden stick. "With a wand, this group of magic users is kind of a jack of all trades with various spells ranging the most rudimentary of things such as household cleaning to some glamour."

"You gotta be kidding me." Edward must have knew I wasn't going to swallow this easily because he directed Drew's attention to the coffee pot sitting on the counter. With a flick of Drew's wand, the coffee pot was floating towards us. Interesting.

"Nope. He's not." Drew interrupted. "This is a simple levitation spell that I did wordless. There are flashier things I could have done; but considering you're armed, it wouldn't have been smart." Good to know the boy has sense.

Edward picked by up with his explanation. "It is not something you can gain a total understanding of in two hours, but I will tell you this much. Over 90% of the population is more defenseless than the average non-magical human if you manage to separate them from their wands." Trust Edward to know how mind works to comfort me.

"But why do you need a wife?" _Hell, why do you need me?_ If Edward's going to claim an inheritance, why not just go over there and claim it?

Edward must really be tired or he either really needed me because he actually answered the question up front for once. "Multiple reasons, actually. First, as a pureblood family- which I will explain later, I don't know what type of marriage contracts are out there and even if there aren't some could probably 'appear' with the state of the government right now. If I'm already married, there isn't a damn thing they can do with me other than give me my inheritance."

"Second, the members of the Wizarding world are some of the nosiest bastards I've ever had the displeasure of meeting. Pureblood families are always in the news let alone a newly discovered heir to a pureblood family. My bachelor status along with the amount of the fortune would have the press, social circles, and any available witch frothing at the mouth to get into my graces and my business. It's a distraction I don't need considering everything else going on including an impending war."

"Third, …" With this, a genuine smile donned his face. "… they're scarred shitless of necromancers. Then you add that with the furry and fang connection that I continuously tried to dissuade you from making; you come across as more than a partner. You come across as a power in your own right that will create not only wariness, but also plenty of confusion. You will be a walking talking threat in the Wizarding World once they uncover that information and I am willing to eat serious crow since it provides us more security."

Drew snorted and shook his head. "Priceless. A pro-muggle American Malfoy married to a dark muggle necromancer reportedly involved with a vampire and werewolf. Generations upon generations of purebloods are going to be rolling in their graves."

Edward smiled a smile that I usually associate with a kid being in a candy store. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

"What's a pureblood?" The word had been thrown around repeatedly in the conversation.

Drew began to answer when Edward stopped him. "We can explain the rest when we talk to Jean-Claude and Richard. That is if Anita's in that is. No point in explaining all of this twice." Talk about a double whammy. Other than getting my head around the fact that he addressed them by their given names rather than his colorful yet unappreciated pet names; there was also the issue that they were included in this plan. They had to be somewhat if Edward was going to voluntarily give up information. Edward does not give unnecessary information and most definitely not to them.

Whether I wanted to admit it or not, I knew I was in based on sheer curiosity if nothing else. Just what in the Hell is going on Edward?


End file.
